


A New Normal

by AuroraNova



Series: The Normal Series [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing my J/D AU. This story begins as the guys are outed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This story deals with homophobia, and therefore it isn’t always pretty. It’s not graphic by any means, just harsh reality. If this offends, please stop reading now.
> 
> Standard disclaimer: I own nothing and am not making a cent.

On this particular Monday, Sam didn’t go to the mountain until after lunch, because she’d been asked to meet with a few seniors at the Academy. Their project was amazingly advanced, and she was recommending that they be assigned to SGC or the Prometheus project after graduation.

Jack and Daniel weren’t getting back from their weekend visiting Jack’s aunt until that evening, so she was on her way to let Colonel Warren know she was on base and ask him about the status reports from P5X-223. Her mind was mostly still thinking about the seniors at the Academy. Their hypothesis wasn’t quite right, considering the limited information available to them, but it was clear these three were very intelligent and their ideas about space travel weren’t that far off.

Her consideration of this was interrupted when she heard, “I’m not surprised Jackson is queer, but O’Neill? That’s screwed up, man.”

She did not like the sound of that. Glad she hadn’t changed out of her dress uniform yet because she was more imposing in it, she rounded the corner and saw two airmen giving her defiantly guilty looks. “Colonel,” they said.

The one who’d been talking before was a senior airman, and she gave him a harsh glare. “Airman, would you care to elaborate on your discussion?” Despite the phrasing, it wasn’t optional.

“Ma’am, Director O’Neill and Dr. Jackson were seen at the airport looking very… together.”

Damn. Gossip traveled fast around top-secret facilities. Jack and Daniel were out now, although she wasn’t going to confirm or deny anything. “As you were, airmen.”

She’d have to go over to their house later and warn them. When she learned of their relationship several months before, she’d also been shocked. She’d known for a fact Daniel was bisexual and suspected he had feelings for Jack, but that those feelings were reciprocal had come as a surprise. Fortunately, this revelation had come after she realized that, in this universe, she and Jack would never be together and she didn’t want them to anymore. Jack and Daniel, along with Teal’c and Cassie, were family. Sam was in love with Eddie Hallowell now, and she was glad Jack and Daniel had found happiness with each other.

The Sam Carter who first stepped through the stargate never would’ve believed it if someone told her that nine years later she’d be perfectly alright with having two of her best friends end up as a gay couple. But in those nine years she’d seen too much evil in the universe to be bothered by love. In fact, once the initial shock passed, she was mostly mad that they hadn’t told her before. Teal’c, who was really quite wise, had simply pointed out that not informing her was their way of protecting her. And while she might not have deemed that necessary, Jack and Daniel had been motivated by their concern for her.

She had a wonderful relationship with a man who shared her devotion to the SGC. Teal’c had an even less conventional thing with Ishta which could be considered a relationship, though one nobody but the two of them understood. Jack and Daniel had found their version of happily-ever-after together. Considering all the times she had been sure they were all going to die, Sam thought that their post-SG-1 lives had turned out spectacularly well.

A couple of corridors later, she was waylaid by Colonel Warren and dragged into his office. Warren was one of the few SG team leaders who actually liked his office. Most of them shared Jack’s opinion that an office was where paperwork went to breed. “I suppose you knew about the director and Dr. Jackson?” he asked as soon as the door was closed.

“The personal lives of civilians are none of anyone’s business. Sir,” she said stiffly.

“We both know that’s not going to cut it, Carter. I’m not going to go add to the rumor mill, but this is going to be big news and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

He had a point, unfortunately, so she admitted, “I don’t think they’ll even try denying it. As civilians, they are free to conduct their personal lives however they see fit.” And they were her friends, her family, so Sam would defend them to whomever she needed to.

“I know that. I also know that they’re both too important to this program to lose. For the record, I don’t think it should matter one damn bit. But it’s going to.”

“I know.”

Warren sighed. “How do we handle this, Carter?”

As if she knew. Since Warren outranked her, Sam knew he was deferring to her because she was Jack and Daniel’s friend. “I’ll talk to them tonight. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Teal’c and see what he’s heard.”

“I didn’t think people talked to Teal’c about this stuff much.”

Sam managed a weak smile at that. “They don’t. But hardly anyone remembers his hearing is better than ours.”

“Ah,” said Warren. “Look, I’m as surprised as the next guy. Well, about O’Neill anyway. But when you talk to them, will you tell them I’m behind them?”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“SG-28 is scheduled to leave at 1430.”

“I’ll go talk to Teal’c now, if you’ll excuse me, sir.” After that, she’d head over to Eddie’s lab and ask him what the civilian scientists were saying. Since they were as a group much less conservative than the military, Sam didn’t expect the reaction there to be too harsh.

Reminding herself that this was bound to happen sooner or later from the day Jack and Daniel stopped hiding, she headed to Teal’c’s quarters.

* * *

 

Eddie Hallowell was not having a very productive day, though that wasn’t for lack of trying. He was in fact trying to make graphs for his report on particularly interesting alien algae. He’d been studying the samples for three weeks, since Lieutenant de Silva had slipped in some and slept for five days straight, then woke up with no apparent side effects. Of course, Eddie had to be very careful not to touch the samples.

The impediment to his accomplishing much was the rumor flying around SGC about Jack O’Neill and Daniel Jackson. Everyone knew that the original SG-1 team was a tight-knit group, and it was common knowledge that Eddie was dating Sam Carter. He’d therefore had to endure the same basic conversation multiple times that day. He really wished he had his own lab so he could lock the door.

Ian Wong came over and Eddie had to repress a groan. The man was a terrible gossip and honestly Eddie was surprised it had taken him that long to make his way to the biology lab. There had to be something interesting going on in the geology department.

“So, Hallowell.”

“Good afternoon.”

Nobody ever accused Ian Wong of dancing around a subject, as he once again demonstrated. “You must have an inside scoop on O’Neill and Jackson.”

He certainly did. Eddie had known about them for a while. He was just happy that he got along with his girlfriend’s friends. The revelation that they were together had sat just fine with him. At the time he’d only been seeing Sam for a couple of months, and her close friendship with them sometimes worried him. (Teal’c not so much, since he apparently had a girlfriend halfway across the galaxy.) He didn’t like to admit that learning O’Neill and Daniel were a couple relieved him, though Jack O’Neill didn’t miss much and Eddie suspected he’d figured that out. He’d been to their house and once he and Sam had gone on with them a double date to see a play, most of which he passed playing hangman on the program with O’Neill while Sam and Daniel actually watched the play. And while it was true he’d never have picked O’Neill for gay, the two men were clearly very happy together.

None of that, however, was public information. “For a top-secret facility, people around here are terrible at respecting boundaries,” he told Wong.

“Relationships aren’t classified.”

“ _If_ they’re together, it’s nobody else’s business.”

“You can cut the denial, Hallowell. They were practically making out at the airport.”

“Now that I don’t believe for a second.” He couldn’t picture Jack O’Neill making out in public, not in a million years.

Wong took that the wrong way, as encouragement. “Why not?” he asked, eyes shining.

Eddie was not in the mood, for the seventh time that day. “Do you remember what you told me when I started seeing Sam – Colonel Carter?” he asked.

“Uh, no.”

“I distinctly recall a line where you asked what I was doing with a woman whose friends knew fifteen ways to kill me and hide my body.” Nothing like a Special Ops-trained general and former First Prime, combined with an archeologist who knew all the good hiding places on the planet, for intimidation factor. He allowed a moment for Wong to consider that before concluding pointedly, “Some of us come here to work. If you want to gossip, you’ll have to find someone else’s private life to mine. I’m not playing.”

Wong got the message and turned to leave, muttering, “Spoilsport.”

“Hey Eddie,” came Alicia Nelson’s voice, “I need to ask you something.”

“If it’s about O’Neill and Jackson, you’re wasting your time,” Wong told her.

Alicia frowned slightly. “Ask him to use his personal life as a source for gossip? No wonder you’re not the one dating an Air Force colonel.”

At that, Eddie smiled for the first time in hours. Alicia was not only a talented chemist, she was also a woman with principles. “What can I do for you?” he asked her.

“I’m hoping you might have some ideas for biological sources for this compound.” She handed him printouts and leaned in to add in a conspiratorial whisper, “and I thought you might need a break from the sharks.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “You’re not in a rush, are you?”

She took a seat. “Not at all. After all, you can’t rush thorough science.”

* * *

 

Apophis had strictly forbidden homosexual relationships on Chulak. Any relationship without the biological potential to produce children who would serve and worship him was counterproductive. Teal’c had summarily rejected that hatred of homosexuality along with everything else the false god stood for. Since base personnel began discussing O’Neill and Daniel Jackson’s relationship that morning, he had found himself under-informed regarding Tau’ri opinions. Months before, Colonel Carter had explained to him the perplexing and vague policy known as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” but even that had not prepared him for the diversity and hypocrisy of Tau’ri ideas. After hours of internet research, Teal’c had given up on trying to comprehend the potential thought patterns of base personnel.

He had been expecting Colonel Carter’s visit and welcomed her in. “Colonel Carter. I presume you have heard the news.”

She sat down with a sigh. “Yes, Teal’c. I think everybody’s heard.”

“Indeed. Despite many expressions of disbelief that O’Neill could be romantically or sexually attracted to men, this rumor seems to be accepted as a truth.”

“Probably because it makes sense when you think about it,” she said. “Him and Daniel, I mean. I know you have to gear up soon, but I wanted to know what you’ve heard.”

“I have heard a great many things.” He had always found it useful that most of the Tau’ri failed to remember his superior hearing even if they were aware of it. That morning Teal’c had noted a vast array of responses to the revelation of O’Neill and Daniel Jackson’s relationship, most of the time without the personnel knowing that he heard them.

“Give me the highlights.”

He nodded. “Major Ashburn does not understand ‘why Americans make such a bloody big deal out of gay men.’ Nyan remains fiercely loyal to Daniel Jackson, which was to be expected. Master Sergeant Siler finds the idea weird but none of his business and has decided not to dwell on it. Lieutenant de Silva would prefer not to be in the locker room with O’Neill or Daniel Jackson, but loves his job and finds both of them highly skilled. Colonel Dinsmore is dismayed that her ‘gaydar’ was inaccurate. Pending confirmation, Master Sergeant Harriman will win a significant sum in the pool on why O’Neill retired. Major Roth considers the relationship ‘wrong beyond words’ but concedes that as civilians they may do as they please. Colonel Warren reminded a large group of airmen that both O’Neill and Daniel Jackson are heroes multiple times over. Lieutenant Phillips said that at least she does not have to worry about the cliché of her boss hitting on her. Corporal Lizotte, Lieutenant Vilay and Sergeant Roy believe they are freaks. Airman Gregory has exaggerated his tale of the interaction he witnessed at the airport three times since I first heard him tell it. Dr. Lee ‘doesn’t give a damn’ and simply wants to examine the shape-shifting vase recovered on P5X-744 in peace. Sergeant Johnston had been certain that you and O’Neill would end up married. Dr. Brightman refuses to say anything except that it is their private business. Several Marines were engaged in an attempt to determine how long this ‘fubar’ relationship has been going on. Captain Hernandez found the entire situation highly romantic. Shall I continue?”

Colonel Carter shook her head. “I get the idea. There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Teal’c felt compelled to add, “And the indifferent.” Dr. Lee had been very insistent on that point when loudly proclaiming, ‘I don’t care if they’re gay, straight, or into aliens, now let me run my tests!’

“Right. I’ve got to go warn them tonight.”

If he were not going to be on a mission, he would have accompanied her. As it was, he offered, “If all goes as planned, we will return by 0700 tomorrow. I will then be available to loom as required.”

The comment was not entirely in jest, which Colonel Carter understood even as she smiled slightly. “I’ll tell them.” Standing, she added, “Have a good mission.”

He inclined his head in recognition. “You have the harder task.”

Colonel Carter did not argue the point. When he was again alone Teal’c decided he had time to look up the definition of ‘fubar.’ While going to his computer, he reflected that the Tau’ri seemed to have a genetic disposition to making situations much more complicated than they needed to be.

* * *

 

They’d picked up a pizza on the way back from the airport, and Daniel was halfway through his third piece when they heard the telltale sound of Sam’s bike pulling into the driveway.

Jack looked at the mostly empty pizza box. “I hope she’s eaten already.” He got up and went over to the door, opening it before Sam had even made it to the porch.

“Hi,” she said, setting her helmet on the floor. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Her whole body screamed that she was concerned about something, and the false cheer hadn’t fooled them for years.

“Nope. Have a seat,” said Jack. “There’s a piece of pizza if you want.”

She sat but passed on the pizza. “I’m not hungry, thanks. How was your trip?”

“It was good,” replied Daniel. “But you’re way too tense to have come here to hear about our weekend in New Hampshire.”

“Right.” Sam ran a hand through her hair the way she did when she didn’t know how to start a conversation. “When you were at the airport Friday, an airman saw you acting ‘together.’ The whole mountain has been talking about it. I hate to say it, but you’re completely out now.”

Daniel had a pretty good idea what the anonymous airman had seen. At one point, he’d been having a bout of worry that Aunt Kate wouldn’t like him, or would turn out to be less accepting than Jack thought, or some similar scenario. None of them had come to pass, and after a little initial awkwardness the weekend had gone well. Both Jack’s aunt and his cousin Lisa were pleasant people. But that moment in the airport when Jack was reassuring him, he figured it would’ve been pretty obvious they were a couple. Especially the part where Jack had laced their fingers together and dropped a quick kiss on his hand.

Jack, his wonderful, beloved Jack, knew him well enough to say, “Daniel. Stop it.”

“What?”

“Whatever train of thought that’s going to lead to you blaming yourself for this. We both knew it would happen one of these days. Not hiding, remember?”

He still felt like Jack had the worse end of this deal. Daniel knew that half the people at SGC already suspected he was gay or bi anyway.

“Teal’c said he’ll be available to loom once he gets back in the morning, and Colonel Warren offered to do anything he can to help,” said Sam. “I asked Teal’c what he’s heard. There’s good, bad, ugly, and indifferent. Eddie says the civilian scientists are just as surprised – at least about you, Jack – but less, uh…”

“Repulsed?” suggested Jack.

She nodded glumly in response but added, “Not everyone. Apparently Captain Hernandez thinks it’s romantic, and then there are the people like Siler who think it’s a little weird but not really their business.”

“Our lives are our own,” said Jack. “Daniel’s a civilian. And even though nobody acts like it, I don’t wear the uniform anymore. I’ll call Hammond. He knows, but I don’t think he’s been sharing. If it means that much to the Joint Chiefs and the President, I’ll retire for good.”

Daniel reached his hand across the table to grab Jack’s. He was used to suspicions about his sexuality. It came with working on a military base and he’d accepted who he was before he’d ever seen the stargate. He really didn’t care what other people thought unless they were close to him. Jack seemed to be developing a similar philosophy in that regard, but he did have more to lose and it was new to him. Daniel held his hand tightly, their fingers squished together. He needed the touch to convey his love and admiration. “Jack,” he said softly, “cariad. You can tell them we’re a package deal.”

Sam was smiling at their clear love. “Whatever you need, just name it.”

“Thanks,” he told her, grateful for the support of his SGC family.

She stood up. “I’ll let you two process this, but call if you want.”

“You don’t have to go,” said Jack.

But Sam was already reaching for her helmet. “In about three minutes you’re going to realize I’m right. I’ll call in the morning.”

Daniel got up and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you.”

As usual, Jack found a unique and roundabout way of expressing his gratitude. “It’s always good to have reliable backup.”

“They only _think_ they’ve broken up SG-1,” said Sam with a wry smile. “Goodnight.”

Sam closed the door behind her and Daniel pulled Jack up. “Couch,” he said. Forgetting all about unpacking from the weekend, they settled in together on the couch.

Daniel was the first to speak. “I meant it, Jack. About being a package deal.”

Because they were leaning together, he couldn’t see Jack shake his head, but he felt it. “You love your job even more than I love mine. I don’t want you to give it up.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Yes, I love my job. But I don’t want to work at SGC if it suddenly becomes illegal for me to tell you what I’m doing. I was seriously considering leaving before they kept you on as a civilian. I can’t live with huge parts of my life that I have to keep secret from the one person I share myself with completely. I _won’t_ live like that, Jack.”

Jack’s breath hitched, and he somehow managed to get them spooned together on the sofa. It was a good thing they had a wide sofa. “It shouldn’t come to that. I am a civilian now. Politics, though… well, you know how I feel about them.”

He certainly did. They shared a very dim view of politics generally. “I know it shouldn’t. But if it does, I’m gone the day you are.”

“I’ll get up early and call Hammond, see where I – we - stand.”

“It’s not just the Pentagon, you know,” he warned.

“I know,” said Jack. “It’s the people on base who will be trying to act like they still respect me when they don’t, who will be talking about us behind our backs and looking at me like I’ve got a snake in my head. The military isn’t a warm and fuzzy kumbaya institution.”

“I’d noticed.”

“Doesn’t matter, though. I love you. People can deal with it or not and I don’t care which.”

He grabbed his partner’s hand and pulled it up near his own heart. “My thoughts exactly. I don’t want anyone but you, it’s nobody else’s business who I love, and when have I ever cared what other people thought?”

Jack chuckled at that. “You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

They settled into a contemplative silence after that. Daniel tried not to think of it as the calm before the storm.

* * *

 

In the morning Sam called as she’d promised, hoping her friends were alright. Daniel answered, and from the sounds of it he was well into his second cup of coffee. “How are you?” she asked.

“Both still employed,” he said. “According to General Hammond, President Hayes said that anyone who doesn’t want a gay man commanding SGC can try to build a resume half as impressive. Besides, it’s apparently very hard to find someone that everyone on the IOC respects.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That’s good.” On one hand, she knew that once Jack retired he could do what he wanted. On the other, she knew the military, and there were going to be well-placed people who objected to the leader of SGC being in a gay relationship. (She was pretty sure she remembered from the last election campaign that President Hayes had a lesbian sister-in-law, which could only help.)

“It is,” agreed Daniel. “General Hammond is coming to visit next week. You know how the Air Force loves to send someone with a pound of brass to express support.” His words were a bit harsh, but the tone behind them was lightly teasing. “He’s even coming over for dinner. Jack all but promised you and Teal’c would be here too.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “Are you and Jack…” she trailed off, unable to find the right words.

“I’ve never cared, Sam. I kept my orientation to myself because I came to work on a military base and,” here he paused before admitting, “and I was already an outsider. But people can take me or leave me as I am. And you know Jack. Once he’s made up his mind, nothing will change it.”

She grinned. They were going to be just fine. “Teal’c wants to try the new Persian restaurant he saw advertised, and Eddie will never refuse eating out. Do you guys want to go Friday?” Teal’c had a thing for trying food from all over the world. Eddie had a thing for meals that required neither cooking nor doing dishes.

From the muffled sound she could tell Daniel had his hand over the receiver. “Jack, Persian restaurant Friday with Sam, Teal’c and Eddie?”

Sam could barely hear Jack reply, “Sure.”

“We’re in.”

“Meet you there at 1830?” she asked.

“Six-thirty, right.” Daniel had never adopted the use of military time. “If I don’t go now Jack’s going to eat all the eggs.”

“See you later, then.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Feeling significantly better about her friends’ situation, Sam went off to make her own breakfast.

* * *

 

They went to the mountain together in Jack’s truck. He had decided that he didn’t give a damn what other people thought. As much as he disliked getting older, he was only a couple weeks short of fifty-four. He’d spent his entire adult life serving his country and his planet. After everything he’d done and had done to him, he had still managed to come out alive and unbroken. He loved Daniel and Daniel loved him. They were together. End of story. If people didn’t like it, too bad for them.

Daniel had been quiet for a couple minutes, working something out in his brilliant mind. Finally he said, “Next time we go on vacation, I’d really like to go to Egypt. There are places I’d like to show you. Places with good memories.”

Jack hadn’t expected that, but he kicked himself for shooting down Egypt as a vacation destination before. Daniel didn’t want to take him on an archaeological tour. He wanted to show him the places that were special to him, from the few years he had with his parents.

“Sounds good,” he said. And it really did.

“That’s for you, Jack. No matter what anyone else says or does.”

He nodded. “What’re a few homophobes after the Goa’uld and Replicators, anyway?”

Daniel gave him knowing grin. “Nothing.”

With practiced ease he pulled into his parking spot. It was one of the better perks he’d received when he took Hammond’s job: the best parking spot in the lot, marked with a sign that proclaimed it _Reserved: J. O’Neill._

“See you when the delegation comes,” he said.

“Yes.”

It was a short walk to the entrance. He got his ID ready.

“Good morning sir, Dr. Jackson,” greeted Sergeant Soucie while checking their IDs.

Jack put his hand on the scanner. “Good morning, Sergeant.” He could see Soucie trying to look like nothing at all was unusual. Of course, going in together wasn’t doing anything to deny the rumors running around.

The other guard was fairly new and Jack could never remember her name, but she gave them a deferential nod. “Director, Doctor.”

Jack had barely stepped out of the elevator when he was met by the ever-professional Walter. “Good morning, sir. Doctor Jackson. If I can talk to you a minute about today’s gate schedule, General. We had to adjust it because there’s a storm on Vali delaying the delegation.”

Daniel headed off to his office and Jack took the paper Walter handed him. “It looks good,” he said, though he knew Colonel Fisk wasn’t going to be happy that his mission got the worst delay.

“Excellent. I’ll implement it, with your permission.”

“Implement away.”

“Yes sir.” With that, Walter went towards the control room while Jack went to his office.

First, though, he stopped in the tiny office next to his, where Lieutenant Phillips was just taking off her coat. “What’d I miss?” he asked.

“Good morning, sir. Yesterday was relatively quiet, aside from certain… lively discussions.” She was clearly not entirely comfortable with the last part, although whether because it was awkward to admit everyone had been gossiping about him or because she objected to his relationship, Jack couldn’t tell.

“So I’ve been told.”

Colonel Warren came in. “Lieutenant, is… ah, there you are, sir. I was hoping to speak with you.”

“Come on in.” He left Phillip’s office and unlocked his own. When the door was closed again, he said, “Carter told me about your support. It’s appreciated.”

“Any time, sir.”

“Have a seat.”

Warren sat. “I’d like permission to go back to P2Z-912, sir.”

Jack thought for a second, trying to place the planet. If he had the right one, the natives were fond of their guns. “Didn’t they try to kill you?”

“Yes, but that was an honest misunderstanding.”

“And you want to go back why?”

“I’m hoping they might let us take a look at their wind-generated defensive system, sir.”

That was fair enough, except for one small problem. “They didn’t let you the first time.”

“No. However…”

Jack decided to take his normalcy where he could get it.

* * *

 

Daniel had a perfectly average morning. He spent the first hour holed up in his office working on a translation and then Nyan came in to review UAV footage of ruins. Their conversation remained, as usual, an enthusiastic discussion of archaeological possibilities.

His alarm went off, reminding him that he had an appointment to keep. “I’ve got to go meet the Vali delegation,” he told Nyan. “Can we finish this later?”

“Certainly. The last mission interrupted my sleep schedule, and I am ready for bed.” Nyan looked at him for a moment, then asked solemnly, “Are you happy with your chosen path and companion?”

“Yes,” he replied with a smile.

“Then I am pleased for you.”

“Thank you, Nyan.”

“Have a pleasant afternoon.”

“Get some rest.”

By the time Daniel got to the gate room, everyone else was there: Jack, Sam, Colonel Warren, and the usual contingent of guards. The doors had barely shut behind him when the gate came to life.

“Incoming wormhole,” announced Walter somewhat unnecessarily.

Behind the iris, the gate flared to life.

“It’s the Vali,” Walter told them.

Jack replied, “Open the iris.”

The iris always seemed out of place to Daniel. It was so mundane to put over something so astonishing. It also had the potential to save the planet, so the small poetic injustice was really inconsequential.

The three-person Vali delegation stepped through. “Greetings from the Unified Government of the Vali,” they proclaimed in unison. Daniel was impressed at how quickly they’d learned English.

“Welcome to Earth,” said Jack, taking a step forward.

Suddenly, one of the Vali flicked her fingers and a tiny dart flew through the air. She crumpled to the ground, zatted, before the dart even hit Jack’s neck.

“What the hell?” asked Jack. Daniel was relieved because, at least for the moment, Jack seemed fine, but that was quickly overwhelmed by a gnawing fear.

The other Vali had their hands up in the galactic pose of surrender. “I _told_ her!” proclaimed one. “‘Rekop, we can’t use truth serum on potential allies. They won’t like it.’ But does she ever listen? No! If her father wasn’t so rich…”

Jack’s fingers had found the dart. “I don’t think you should pull it out,” cautioned Sam. Jack dropped his hand back down.

Daniel thought he’d better make sure he understood the Vali correctly. “Truth serum?”

The two conscious Vali were docilely letting the guards search and handcuff them. “It’s not poisonous,” said the one who appeared to be the leader. Since the ancestors of the Vali had been taken from India thousands of years before, it was possible that it was poisonous and they had developed an immunity. On the other hand, chances were also good that Jack would be just fine. Daniel could feel his panic subsiding. “It lasts a third of a day, half at most.”

“Sir,” said Warren, “I’ll take care of them, if you’d like to go to the infirmary.”

“Like isn’t quite the word I’d use,” muttered Jack. “Make sure they don’t get up to any more tricks, Colonel.”

“Yes sir.”

Jack started to sway a bit. The Vali leader informed them, “Dizziness is the most common side effect.”

Daniel went over to support Jack before he fell over, careful to be on the side without the dart.

“If it’s a truth serum,” said Sam, “I’d better go clear the way to the infirmary of nonessential personnel. No telling what you might say.” No matter how long he worked for the Air Force, Daniel would never have the military mindset to worry about security clearances while Jack was on the receiving end of a dart.

“Okay,” agreed Jack.

She looked at him. “Will you be alright?”

“I will if people don’t ask questions,” snapped Jack. “Questions are hereby forbidden.”

Daniel knew himself well enough to know he was bound to slip up there. Hopefully there was an exemption for him. “Come on,” he said. “Infirmary.” Despite the Vali’s assurances, he wasn’t going to stop worrying until Dr. Brightman had checked Jack over carefully.

* * *

 

It was over an hour before Tim Warren got down to the infirmary to check on the man who he still thought of as his CO, despite O’Neill’s civilian status. He had personally supervised the incarceration of the Vali and then had to explain to the President why the teleconference was indefinitely postponed. Meanwhile Carter had contacted the highly contrite Vali government and gotten a sample of the truth serum. She assured him that Dr. Brightman was confident there would be no lasting effects other than O’Neill’s ire.

All the same, it seemed to him the respectful thing to stop by the infirmary and put in a brief personal appearance. As soon as he stepped through the door, it was clear he would have to get by Teal’c first.

Warren liked Teal’c, even though he didn’t work with him often. The Jaffa was nothing if not dedicated, insisting that he would not rest until all Goa’uld were dead. He was also unfailingly loyal to the rest of SG-1, even after the team ceased to exist. As he stood imposingly in the infirmary, his silent message was clear: nobody gets to my friend while he is vulnerable unless I approve.

“I’ve come to give the director my report,” Warren said.

Teal’c gazed at him for a moment, but Warren didn’t blink. Finally the Jaffa nodded slightly. “Do not ask him any questions.”

“Got it.”

O’Neill was sitting on a bed, obviously annoyed. Dr. Jackson stood beside him, and his concern was so clearly that of a lover that Warren wondered how he could’ve possibly failed to realize they were together.

“Glad to see you alright, sir,” he said. “The Vali are incarcerated and under heavy guard. They should pose no threat.” At least Keva and Dawhar, the two who hadn’t flicked a truth serum dart, had understood and cooperated. In fact, the worst inconvenience he’d dealt with as far as they were concerned was a need to apologize continuously. “I’ve informed the President that the teleconference will be delayed indefinitely.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

He hadn’t gotten to be a full-bird colonel without recognizing a veiled dismissal. So he whispered a slightly conspiratorial, “Good luck getting out of Doc’s clutches, sir,” and headed towards the door.  

With a nod to Teal’c, Warren headed off to check on the Vali. Then he had to decide what to do with them. He wanted Carter’s input on that one.

He was waiting for the elevator when he heard two airmen deep in conversation and oblivious to his presence. “A _truth serum_!” exclaimed one of them. “Damn, someone should ask him if he’s a top or a bottom.”

“I still can’t believe we’re under the command of a queer.”

That kind of thinking annoyed Tim Warren on principle. Ba’al was still out there, doing his evil best to take over the galaxy. There were other kinds of threats, too, like the Aschen. Warren wanted to grow old with his wife, watch his daughter finish growing into a woman, and play with grandkids eventually. He didn’t want to worry about never being able to have grandkids or, worse, having them enslaved by a Goa’uld. In the face of that, who cared who Jack O’Neill was sleeping with? And anyway, he knew what he’d seen in the infirmary: those two were in love. So it was unexpected. This was SGC. The unexpected was their stock and trade.

The airmen snickered, pleased with themselves, until Warren cleared his throat. “If you don’t have enough do occupy your on-duty time, Airmen, I’m certain there are storage closets in need of cataloging and reorganizing.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

He had much bigger fish to fry at the moment, so Warren continued on his journey to visit the imprisoned delegates.


	2. Part II

Jack was incredibly relieved when Dr. Brightman agreed that he could leave the infirmary. She still insisted that someone be with him, since he was under the influence of an alien drug, but his worrying about what he would say apparently outweighed her desire to personally supervise him. So he and Daniel were set up in guest quarters, complete with two plates of chicken pot pie for lunch.

Brightman had assumed he would feel comfortable talking with Daniel. First, of course, they were lovers, and there was no worry about Daniel’s security clearance. And Brightman wasn’t wrong, but she also didn’t see the whole picture. The rest was that Daniel would accept his silence without offense.

They’d just finished the pot pie when someone knocked on the door. Daniel got up to answer it. “Hi Sam.”

“How -” she caught herself as the door slid shut, hastily covering with, “The Vali are preparing some kind of apology statue.”

“Another statue,” muttered Jack. “Like we don’t already have enough.”

Daniel failed to cover the hurt look on his face. “Crap,” said Jack. He really hated this truth serum. Some things just weren’t meant to be shared. Ever. Now words came spilling forth while he tried to sooth Daniel’s ruffled feathers, and Jack could no more stop them than he could stop the tide. “Look, Daniel, you know I love you. I meant it when I said it’s _our_ house and I want you to have your things. Just don’t expect me to start liking three-headed Gumby men, okay?”

Much to Jack’s relief, his boyfriend agreed, “As long as you don’t expect me to like that singing fish.”

That sounded fair enough. “Deal.”

Meanwhile, Sam was looking terribly guilty. “I’m sorry. I thought it was just questions…”

“Nope. I get the whole kit ‘n’ caboodle.”

She raised her eyebrows a little. “I see. I’ll go, but Eddie really wants me to tell you that he hasn’t told anyone a thing about you. Apparently people have been asking him.” Sam scowled a bit at that.

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Daniel replied.

“You have better judgment than to date a gossip.” As he heard himself speak, Jack decided it was a good thing Sam already knew better than to believe he was as gruff as he acted.

“Thanks,” she said. “See you later.”

Daniel found a book and brought it over. “Apparently our guest quarters now come stocked with reading material.”

Jack looked at the book. It was a legal thriller, which he liked if they were well-written, but he didn’t feel like reading. “Sure. Stick me in a room with you while I don’t want to talk, there’s a perfectly good bed going to waste, and what do I get? A book.”

Daniel tried not to laugh but failed miserably.

* * *

 

It was just before ten at night when they finally got home. Dr. Brightman had proclaimed Jack free of the truth serum once she tested his blood and, while they waited for the results, he regaled her with a complicated story about SG-1’s starring role in bringing about Apophis’s heretofore unknown extra death. By the end his lies got bolder, just because he could.

“Nice clear night,” remarked Jack when he got out of the truck. “I think I’ll go up on the roof for a bit.”

Daniel fished out his keys and wondered if his partner wanted company or not. Sometimes the roof was Jack’s private refuge, but it was also just a place he liked to spend time. “Let me know if you want company,” he offered lightly.

“That’d be good.”

In short order, they were up on the roof with a package of Oreos. It really was a clear night, good for stargazing. They were far enough away from the city that there wasn’t too much light to interfere.

“Do you want a telescope?” asked Jack suddenly. He was looking out through his while Daniel sprawled out in the chaise lounge he’d wedged up on the roof that summer. “We can get another one.”

“I’m more of a panorama man. Besides, you show me the best stuff when it’s already in focus.”

Jack chuckled, a low and happy sound that Daniel never got tired of hearing. “I see how it is.”

“Oreo?” he offered. Jack took the cookie.

Next door, Kelly called, “Mocha! Mocha, come!”

“If people want a pet that comes when it’s called, they shouldn’t get a cat.”

Jack, of course, was not overly fond of cats generally, so Daniel pointed out, “You _never_ think people should get cats.”

“Not true. Cats have their place. Anywhere with too many mice, mainly.”

“Mocha!” called Kelly.

Jack tore himself away from his telescope. “Thanks for today.”

“Sure,” he replied.

To Daniel’s immense relief, they had both survived the experience more or less unscathed. Most of the time he was there keeping Jack company, and satisfying Dr. Brightman’s requirement that he not be alone, without engaging in any conversation. Jack seemed to prefer it that way. Daniel had been slightly offended at first, because even though he was himself very private he shared with Jack. But then he realized a) there were things in Jack’s Special Ops past that he was never, ever supposed to speak of and b) it was a control issue. Jack couldn’t control what came out when he opened his mouth, and so he’d prefer not to open it at all. If it had been Daniel injected with truth serum, he probably would’ve done the same.

Mocha must’ve gone to Kelly, because they heard the Bucklin’s door shut, leaving them alone outside to stare at the stars. (Although Jack seemed to have his telescope pointed at the moon.)

Daniel was hit with an unexpected pang of loss that he didn’t get to look up and see stars in an entirely different configuration, now, didn’t get to regularly take in the view from another world. Maybe he’d never really appreciated that enough when he was on SG-1. It had been a few months since his injury and the disbanding of SG-1, but Daniel still missed going through the stargate regularly. He’d only been offworld once since that last fateful mission.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” asked Jack.

“Just thinking.”

“You’re _always_ thinking.”

Daniel gave his partner a little smile. “We had a good run, didn’t we? SG-1?”

Jack left his telescope and wedged himself next to (and on top of) Daniel on the lounge. “The best.” He laid a soft kiss on Daniel’s lips.

There had been days when Daniel was sure they would all die. Together, probably saving the world or at least _a_ world, going out in a blaze of glory, but definitely a permanent death. Somehow they’d beat odds not even Vegas would take and managed to make all of their deaths temporary.

“You know the story about the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?” he asked his partner.

“Daniel, my last name is O’Neill. Of _course_ I do.”

Fair enough. “I heard a different version of it once. My last foster mother, right before I left for college, told it to one of the younger kids. She said that the rainbow is a long and hard journey. First you must hike uphill on a narrow path. Then you have to hang on as you go downhill and everything is out of your control. Only then can you make it to the foot of the rainbow and find your pot of gold.”

“Huh,” said Jack noncommittally.

“This,” he punctuated the statement with a hug, “is the pot of gold, Jack.”

Jack kissed him again. “You are such a romantic, Daniel Jackson. Pot of gold, hmm? It works, if you don’t mind your gold a little scratched and dented.”

“I like it just the way it is.”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “Mine’s pretty great too.”

* * *

 

Jack was already thinking of his extensive to-do list when he entered his office. Since most of the previous day had been a wash courtesy of the Vali truth serum, his work was piling up. Not to mention the extra work resulting from that incident. Warren had released the two who weren’t responsible, keeping the assailant overnight. At this point, Jack had pretty much decided to just release her to the custody of the Vali. The Unified Government of the Vali was clearly sorry and the incident put him in a better negotiating position for those promising medicines Brightman was just about drooling over.

There was a magazine lying face-down on his floor. That was odd, but odd was their stock and trade at SGC. And sometimes Colonel Fisk earmarked articles in his aviation magazines that he thought Jack might like. So it wasn’t until he dropped it casually on his desk that Jack realized what had happened.

It wasn’t an aviation magazine. It was _Playgirl_.

Jack had thought he could just brush anything like this off. Apparently, he’d thought wrong. Suddenly he had an overwhelming need to see Daniel. He’d never called Daniel to his office for personal reasons before. But damn it, someone was determined to blur the lines between personal and professional. And Jack had no real experience with this. Sure, Hammond had taken a little bit to get used to the idea, the late Rosnik hadn’t been thrilled, and his Aunt Kate had needed a few days… but this went beyond that.

He was going to be in a bad mood all day unless he did something. Decision made, he picked up the phone and dialed Daniel’s extension. He didn’t trust himself to leave his office just then.

“Hello?”

“Daniel. Can you come to my office?”

“Be right there.”

Jack stashed the magazine in his desk drawer and poked his head in next door. “I don’t want to be disturbed unless it’s urgent,” he told Lieutenant Phillips.

“Yes sir.”

For a man whose office was three levels up, Daniel made it to Jack’s office in amazingly good time. He could tell something was wrong, because he shut the door behind them. “Jack?”

Jack opened the drawer and angrily threw the magazine on his desk. “Look what I found slipped under my door.”

Daniel took one look at the _Playgirl_ and growled something that sounded suspiciously like a curse Jack had heard on Abydos. Switching to English, he said, “Too cowardly to say anything to our faces.”

“I thought…” words failed Jack, as they had an annoying habit of doing when he wanted to express something personal. “It was easier to not care at home,” he finally managed. It was a rather lame way to sum up his swirling feelings, but was the only way he could.

Fortunately, Daniel understood. He usually did. “It’s easier not to care in theory. But, as cliché as this sounds, it really does get better.”

That was good to know. “No surprise mail for you?” he asked.

“Half the base already thought I was gay. They got their kicks years ago.”

Jack didn’t like the implications of that, but Daniel’s posture and facial expression warned him not to go there. ‘I accepted myself a long time ago, Jack,’ he’d said. And Jack knew his lover; Daniel was outraged, but not on his own behalf. He genuinely didn’t care what other people said or did regarding his sexuality. He just hated to see Jack go through it.

“It’s not…” to his great frustration, words were not coming to mind again. “It’s not like a ribbon device. It doesn’t matter.” He dropped the magazine into the trash, painfully aware how obvious the lie was. It mattered, because this was one of his people. One of the good guys.

“It does,” said Daniel. “I _know_ , Jack.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice for a minute. He felt better already; Daniel had that effect on him. And then one of his trademark deflecting remarks came to him. Only this was one of the special ones, because it was not for general consumption. “Anyway, I don’t know why they think I need that when I’ve got you.”

Daniel smiled, even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh yes, you’re stuck with me.”

When it came down to it, that was all that mattered. “I’m okay. Thanks for coming down.”

“Para usted, cualquier cosa, cariad.”

Oh, Spanish and Welsh. _For you, anything, beloved._  He did so enjoy it when Daniel showed off his linguistic talents. Particularly when it involved their own special endearment.

When Daniel left, Jack’s mood had improved considerably, and he was able to get back to the Vali situation.

A few hours later Jack was walking through the corridors headed for the geology lab, where once again there was something he was told he simply had to see. He sometimes wished the survey teams would bring back smaller rocks so they could be brought to him, but more often than not he was happy for the excuse to walk around and be out of his office.

He stopped when he heard an unfamiliar male voice say, "I can't believe they're letting O'Neill stay in command. Jackson, fine. He’s not the only fag in that crowd, and they’re not in the command structure. But O’Neill is the damned director. He might as well still be Air Force."

Jack really wanted to hit something. Or someone.

"He's good,” countered a second male voice. “I don't think there are many people who could keep this all together."

First the _Playgirl_ incident and now some other idiot, and it was barely 1200. Jack was glad to have the second person’s vote of confidence.

"I'm pretty sure that letting a gay retired general command is violating regulations."

"Technically, no."

"But the point of the regs, the bigger picture..."

"Oh, the big picture, you mean keeping Earth safe? How exactly does the gender of O'Neill's lover impact that?"

"You're actually okay with this?"

"More or less. I mean, it's weird. First of all, because he and Dr. Jackson act just the way they always have, but we _know._ And the whole gay sex thing gives me the creeps. But they're the best. SGC needs them. Earth needs them."

"So you're saying you don't have a problem taking orders from a queer?"

"I'm saying I don't have a problem taking orders from General O'Neill."

Jack hadn’t known how much he needed to hear that until the words were spoken. He couldn’t continue to command a base without the respect of his people. They didn’t have to like his love life, but they _did_ have to trust that he was capable of doing his job, or SGC would go to hell without any snakes lifting a stolen finger.

"It's just _wrong_ ," insisted the first man.

"Why are we so afraid of the Goa'uld, even now when most of them are dead and the rest are as weak as they've ever been?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humor me."

"Fine. Because they want to enslave us and make us hosts."

"Exactly. We want our freedom."

"I still don't see how this has anything to do with O'Neill and Jackson."

"If we won't let people have freedom on Earth, why the hell are we fighting for it out there? Two consenting adults. What they do on their own time is their business."

"What happened to the Geyer I was stationed with in Germany?"

"He learned that the universe is a whole lot bigger than he thought."

They had to be getting close to the corner, so he started softly whistling and resumed walking. Once he crossed paths with the airmen, both snapped off a salute. “Sir,” they said in unison.

Okay, so the part where he might as well still be Air Force was mostly true. He would have been, if he could legally do it and still live with Daniel.

It was clearly a bad morning when he wanted a small emergency. Just a small, non-fatal one. But in the end, there was no way he could be happy without Daniel. He’d put up with what he had to, if it was the price they paid. Daniel was worth every indignity and then some.

* * *

 

Walter hadn’t yet decided what he was going to do with his windfall. Of course, he had far too much respect for both General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson to make public his wager in the pool on O’Neill’s retirement, at the time. No, he’d quietly put his money in with Siler, who was capable of keeping the secret even if he thought it was nuts. But time had proven Walter right, and he was now $2,875 richer.

He didn’t know how the two of them did it. Walter was married to his career. That’s what his ex-wife had told him when she couldn’t take it any more and left him. He’d loved her, but realized that the Air Force had always come first. So he never bothered with the whole remarriage thing. He had an attractive lawyer friend, Fiona, with a similar outlook, and they had a very satisfactory arrangement.

There was only one woman in his heart: his daughter Caitlin. He’d already bought her plane ticket home for Thanksgiving, and now he figured he’d add a check for a couple hundred dollars when he mailed it. You’d think one heart attack over college costs would be enough, but it turned out the expenses didn’t end with the tuition bill. He supposed he ought to tuck away a thousand for the next tuition bill, as well. Walter may not have done well by his ex-wife, but he was determined to do well by Caitlin. Sometimes that meant apologizing for the sins of his gender and letting her cry on his shoulder (nearly as hard as watching staff blasts fly through the stargate) and sometimes it meant trying to keep her student loans to a minimum (easier, though he was really starting to miss good scotch. Oh, good scotch. He’d have to spend some of his winnings on that.)

Walter already had the utmost respect for his CO and for Dr. Jackson. General O’Neill was the kind of soldier most of the Air Force wanted to be, although few of them ever stopped to realize the personal cost. Dr. Jackson had seen more combat than most of the Air Force and he was a civilian. Even when he grew to be a soldier-civilian, he never lost his love of discovery. They were good men and Walter was proud to work at SGC. What he didn’t understand was how, after giving so very much of themselves to the program, they had anything left to give to a relationship. That had been his problem.

More power to them, though. As for the whole gay thing, Walter had stopped caring about that a long time ago. He knew firsthand how many times the world had come close to ending, and simply couldn’t be bothered to care the gender of who anybody slept with or loved, because it seemed so insignificant. As SGC’s senior non-com, he’d taken it upon himself to share this opinion. He figured he owed General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson that.

And if by coincidence he saw a copy of an obscene and entirely disrespectful cartoon, recognized the handwriting as belonging to one of his direct reports, and said direct report would soon find that he’d drawn a month straight of night duty, well… these things happened. Coincidences, in Walter’s mind, were wonderful events.

True, there was something to be said for Teal’c’s way of dealing with things. Corporal Lizotte had been telling a joke about General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson in the gym and made the common mistake of underestimating Jaffa hearing. Nobody ever learned the punch line to his joke, nor exactly what Teal’c had said to him, but Lizotte refused to even be near anyone denigrating the general and/or Dr. Jackson after that incident. Alas, Walter didn’t have the sheer physical power needed to strike that kind of fear into the hearts of Marines. He worked with what he had.

Walter had leave coming in a couple of months. He paused to consider how much a cruise would cost…

* * *

 

For once Daniel didn’t mind that he felt extraneous at a briefing. His part in translating the Greek-derived language had long been passed, and the briefing was delving into technical specifics he couldn’t entirely follow. But that was alright, because Jack was enjoying himself immensely.

Jack loved planes and flying. His degree was in aeronautics. So he was thrilled when SG-28 been given what turned out to be plans for a fighter plane. Sam and Jack had already found a few key areas where this design could significantly improve on the F-302s.

The situation of how SGC got the plans was a little haunting. SG-28 had received the plans from the people of P3L-257, a planet which had nearly been destroyed by Ra. In fact, the inhabitants didn’t even know what the plans were for any more. It was, to them, the blueprint for a weapon to fight the Goa’uld, a weapon their ancestors had never been able to build. But while they forgot industrial development, the people of P3L-257 had never forgotten the Goa’uld, and they solemnly copied the old plans and asked SG-28 to create the weapons their ancestors had designed.

It pleased Daniel to see his partner so enthusiastic. Sometimes the paperwork and bureaucracy of his job got to Jack, but then he had bright shining moments like this, where a big honkin’ space gun practically fell into his lap. And it was a _flying_ space gun, no less.

The _Playgirl_ incident of the previous day was forgotten, and knowing Jack he would never bring it up again.

When he first came back from Abydos, Daniel had endured a few taunts. Nothing physically dangerous, of course – the military bigots behind the incidents were closed-minded but not stupid, and they knew his skills were needed. It was just stupid stuff, like the time he’d gone out to his car and found ‘FAG’ written on both sideview mirrors with soap. Daniel had practice ignoring things like that, but all the same he decided it was best not to confirm that he actually was bisexual. It just made life easier, and it hadn’t mattered because he was devoted to Sha’re. Anyway, it went away after a couple of months.

There was also the matter of his department. Most of the people he spent the day working with were unbothered by alternative lifestyle choices. In fact Trevor Voss, their resident specialist in Pacific island archaeology, was proudly parade-gay. Jack didn’t have that kind of broadly accepting environment with the Air Force. At least most of the SG teams remained confident in Jack’s leadership, if not his personal life. That meant a great deal to Jack, because the base couldn’t run without it.

Jack was, by all outward appearances, the ultimate heterosexual, macho alpha male. Daniel had never understood how learning a man like Jack wasn’t straight would threaten other men (wouldn’t it mean less competition?), unless of course they didn’t want to acknowledge their own non-heterosexual preferences.

It took a lot more courage to admit you were different than to play along. The night after Daniel had given Jack that crazy kiss, they talked for a long while. The conversation was vivid in Daniel’s memory because it had changed his life.

_"You kissed me.”_

_“I know. I thought… hell, Jack. I’m sorry.” He’d thought Jack wanted it too, somehow._

_“Don’t be,” came the whispered reply. “I don’t think I’m straight, Daniel. Maybe I never was. Women – they still do it for me. But once in a while it’s not just women.”  _

_They talked for a while, both of them discussing bisexuality without bringing up the idea of them together, until Jack finally said, “I don’t know what I’m doing and I can’t let people find out, and you deserve more than that. But you kissed me, so I’ve gotta ask: can I take you out to dinner?”_

That took more guts than any homophobes would ever give credit for. Yet whoever slipped the _Playgirl_ under Jack’s door knew he had guts, knew he was a hero, knew he’d died for Earth and nearly died permanently for it, over and over again. They knew what kind of a man he was and it didn’t even matter. Daniel hated the injustice of it.

But he was supposed to be listening to the briefing, or at least thinking about the injustices of the universe more directly related to what the Air Force paid him for. Thus he forced himself to tune back into the fighter plane discussion.

Teal’c was talking. “… takes advantage of a rarely-exploited tactical weakness of al’kesh: the proximity of the cannons to the shield generator.”

“Which means it’s easier to overload them,” concluded Sam, “disabling if not destroying the ship.”

“Precisely.”

“I like it,” declared Jack to nobody’s surprise. “Can we actually build these things, Carter?”

“I think so, sir.”

Daniel wasn’t good at compartmentalizing, so he couldn’t figure out how Jack and Sam managed to go from first names off-duty to last names and ‘sir’ off-duty. He’d given up trying. It was his inability to compartmentalize that made him good at his job.

“You _think_?”

“We don’t have a prototype to reverse-engineer. There are a couple of words Daniel can’t translate.”

“Technical terms, presumably for mechanical parts,” Daniel supplied. “If we don’t have anything like it, I can’t translate the word. And the designs don’t have descriptions.”

“Too bad,” said Jack.

“Still, I believe that with a team of engineers, it will be possible to build a model from these blueprints, and then incorporate the best aspects into our own planes.”

“So this is one for Area 51?” asked Jack.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll let them know it’s coming.”

With that, the briefing was over. As Daniel headed out the door, he heard Jack humming to himself, very quietly. The tune was “We Are the Champions,” which was one of Jack’s favorite anti-Goa’uld songs. Daniel wondered if his partner even realized the irony that it was a Queen song.

* * *

 

One minute Jack was alone in his office reading Hallowell’s report on the algae that had put de Silva to sleep for five days, and the next a small crowd of archaeologists had rushed in through his open door and were all talking at once.

“Why didn’t we think…”

“…imagine who else…”

“…just unbelievable, Director…”

“…the Bermuda Triangle! It could…”

“Wouldn’t that require rings?”

“I never would’ve thought…”

“… amazingly well preserved for the corrosive environment…”

Oddly enough, Daniel sauntered in _behind_ the rest of the group. And he actually knocked. Jack figured this could mean only one thing: whatever astonishing discovery had been made, it was less than a thousand years old.

“Daniel? Would you care to enlighten me?”

It was a sign of the high regard in which Daniel was held by his staff that the rest of the archaeologists stopped talking when he loudly cleared his throat. “Xavier, it was your find.”

Xavier Rikes stepped forward. “We know what happened to Amelia Earhart! She was taken as a Goa’uld host.”

Jack was shocked. Like most people with an interest in aviation, he was intensely curious as to Earhart’s fate, but he’d never guessed that he would know what had become of her. “How do we know this? The short version, please.”

Daniel was giving him an amused smile. He knew this was the most excited Jack had ever been about an archaeological find that didn’t involve weaponry. Jack asked _how_ the archaeology teams knew things next to never.

“The crashed ship on P7S-489,” said Rikes, so excited his words were coming out in a rush. “The ha’tak we’ve been examining.”

“Right.” He remembered having doubts about what good it would do to uncover a seriously smashed-up ship that was under a lot of black sand and had been for decades. Apparently he was now learning.

“We found this.” Rikes dropped three pictures on the desk. “As you can see, it’s a badly damaged Electra. We’ve just confirmed that the special fuselage tanks match those on Earhart’s plane. Match _exactly_. Now, the ha’tak was obviously badly damaged in a firefight. P7S-489 is practically in our backyard, at least that’s what Colonel Carter’s people tell me. We’re working on the theory that there was a fight near our solar system, and for some reason at least one Goa’uld needed a new host. Maybe the sarcophagus was destroyed in battle? Anyway, after Ra’s experience with rebellion, they wouldn’t want to stick around in a damaged ha’tak.”

“This is very interesting,” he said with more sincerity than he hardly ever used for that statement, “but I don’t see how this translates to Earhart being taken as a host.”

Rikes handed him another picture, this one of a small plaque with squiggly writing. “The natives – very rural, agrarian people, if you recall – told us the rest.”

P7S-489 had only become safe to visit after Yu was killed and Ba’al was so weakened he failed to completely take Yu’s territories. The people seemed nice enough, and were happy that they finally got to keep their crops instead of feeding Yu’s Jaffa. “Yes,” prompted Jack.

“Their name for the site, Director. It’s ‘The Undergod Reborn.’”

Okay, that was a new one.

MacDonald picked up the story from there. “According to Kintai oral history, the undergod Chi had been male since time immemorial. Then a woman emerged from the wreckage at The Undergod Reborn. But it was the woman with ‘the hair of a man,’ which is to say short. The Kintai didn’t believe it was Chi, and retribution was harsh. Chi eventually left and hasn’t been heard from in two generations.”

Jack took a moment to process the information. “So, we’re thinking Chi was one of Yu’s underlords. And could still be out there, for all we know. I guess it makes sense, for a snake. Chi needed a host fast. This one was already airborne.”

“An easy target,” agreed Rikes sadly. “We have no evidence to suggest Noonan survived, though we don’t have bodies either. The Kintai were forced to cremate the bodies.”

“In which case Noonan was the lucky one.”

The archaeologists nodded in agreement, some with shudders. It was a terrible fate for anyone, of course, but there was something wrong about finding out, after all the years and speculation, what a terrible fate had probably fallen to Amelia Earhart. Jack mused that his job sometimes managed to be wonderful and simultaneously really suck.

* * *

 

Eddie thought that the Persian food was just okay. He’d ordered some unpronounceable (except to Daniel, of course) lamb and rice dish that was a bit heavy on the spices. Sam seemed to be enjoying hers, though she’d chosen one of the less exotic dishes on the menu.

“This is delicious,” declared Teal’c. Eddie took Teal’c’s opinions on food with a boulder of salt. After all, the Jaffa liked Spam and creamed corn, two things Eddie avoided without exception. As far as Eddie knew, the only thing Teal’c wouldn’t eat was jalapeno peppers, and that was because they made him sick.  

“I’ve had worse,” said O’Neill, who like Teal’c had a tendency to eat almost anything. He did have his limits, like most sensible people. The meatloaf on base, for instance.

The Persian was okay, though. And it had been a long and trying week, for O’Neill and Daniel especially, so it was nice to get out and relax.

“This is almost as good as Roshanak’s,” Daniel said.

O’Neill asked, “Whose?”

“Roshanak. She was an Iranian archaeologist’s daughter whose father worked near Giza with my parents for a while. She used to watch me sometimes when I was a kid.”

Eddie was a bit confused. “In Egypt?”

Daniel nodded. “I spent a lot of my life there until I was eight.”

Sam poked his thigh under the table, warning him. About what he wasn’t quite sure, so he went with what seemed like a safe comment. “So I guess you didn’t need a sandbox, huh?”

O’Neill groaned. “Please don’t get him started on how Egypt isn’t just a desert.”

“Sorry, O’Neill. It was too good an opening to miss.”

Daniel gave his lover a pointed look.

“Ah, you can call me Jack.”

He hadn’t expected that. Even Teal’c still called the director by his last name, although it was possible that was a Jaffa thing. Especially since he used everyone else’s last name, and even used Sam’s rank. But there was really only one appropriate response. “Eddie, then.”

“I usually go back to last names at work. Just ask Sam.”

She confirmed that with a nod. Eddie couldn’t help but feel that he’d unknowingly taken some kind of test and passed, what with the moving to a first-name basis.

He’d finally gotten used to what happened whenever he and Sam were out with O’Neill – Jack, he corrected mentally – and/or Teal’c. Both men had an ingrained habit of quickly assessing the best strategic position and keeping a just-too-sharp eye on people and the situation. Sam didn’t do that, so it wasn’t just a military thing. When eating dinner, it could be unnerving. Of course, Daniel had a habit of laughing when someone said something amusing in a foreign language they thought nobody could understand. Outings with Sam’s friends were always an interesting experience.

It was apparently time for the other eating-out-with-Jack-and-Daniel routine. They were consistent. Every time, Jack would swipe a forkful of something from Daniel’s plate and Daniel would pretend to be offended. Sometimes Jack was stealthy, but this time he went for the bold move and just grabbed a chunk of Daniel’s lamb.

“Apparently we need to go to buffets,” said Daniel with a scowl. It had taken Eddie a few restaurants to realize it was a fake scowl.

“Don’t need to. I’ve got you.”

“It’s so nice to have a purpose in life.”

The two of them were giving off ‘old married couple’ vibes like crazy. Even Teal’c cast a bemused glance their way, while Sam had to put down her fork lest she choke on her dinner.

It was probably a bad time to ask Sam if he could sample her dish.


	3. Part III

It was an odd thing to have Hammond over for dinner, because the meal was an awkward mix of business and pleasure the evening before his official ‘confidence visit.’ The general took in the decorations once he sat in the living room. Daniel’s statues were out, and there was the picture of Jack and Daniel on vacation in Australia that had found its way on display between a picture of Charlie and a picture of SG-1 offworld taken shortly before the battle over Antarctica. A couple of Daniel’s Egyptology books were out as well, mixed in with Jack’s adventure tales. Anyone could see this was their home together.

Jack hoped his predecessor was okay with this.

“How has it been this last week?” asked Hammond.

“The good, the bad, the ugly, and the indifferent,” replied Daniel, using Sam’s words. “Honestly, nobody seems to be as surprised about me.”

“Jack?”

He shrugged. “Fine. Nobody wonders why I retired anymore. Apparently, I’m ‘court-martial proof.’ I’m sure the Pentagon isn’t happy.”

“There have been phone calls,” admitted Hammond. “I’m not going to lie: there are people who want you gone, Jack. You may be a civilian, but you still command an Air Force base.”

“I know. And if that’s what’s best for the program, I’ll retire quietly.”

“As will I,” said Daniel.

“Not my idea,” protested Jack. He understood Daniel’s reasoning, but he needed Hammond to know it wasn’t a power play.

“I’m not trying to blackmail anybody,” Daniel told the general. “But I refuse to live a life where I can’t tell Jack what’s going on or ask his opinion or even work at home because his security clearance has been revoked. I won’t do it.”

Hammond nodded. “Fair enough, son. As it stands, the President has made up his mind. Jack, your contributions to the program are too important. We need you. Both of you. What you do on your own time is your business. If you’re willing to work in a hostile environment, your jobs are secure.” He paused, then continued, “I’m an old man, but I’ve seen a lot of change in the last decade. Besides your invaluable contributions, I’m honored to consider you friends. So you can be sure I’ll enjoy hearing how you continue to prove everyone wrong.”

Jack gave a relieved smile to George Hammond - his predecessor, his boss, his friend. “Thanks, George.”

“Thank you,” echoed Daniel. “I do think that, considering what we do and see, SGC personnel are a bit more open-minded than you might expect on a military base. Of course, there’s still a great deal of prejudice, but it’s not as bad as it was.”

None of them delved into the question of just how Daniel knew how bad the prejudice used to be. Fortunately, they were saved by the doorbell.

Jack answered the door, finding Sam and Teal’c as expected. Daniel and Hammond were right behind him.

“General,” said Sam.

Hammond shook his head slightly. “Not tonight.”

“Wait till you try her cheesecake.” Pointing to the dessert Sam was holding, Jack elaborated, “You won’t believe what we missed out on all those years.”

* * *

 

The praise for Carter’s cheesecake was all well-deserved. George had eaten more than he probably should have because it was just so good. “You’re a woman of many talents,” he told Carter.

“Thank you, sir.”

It was a nice dinner. George had already adjusted to the idea of Jack and Daniel as a couple back when Jack had confessed it was the reason he retired from the Air Force. And he certainly hadn’t maintained command of a galactic travel base for seven years by being closed-minded. It made sense, somehow, among all the crazy things that happened at SGC, that those two men who had given so much of themselves had found happiness together. George had long ago decided to go with his gut when something made sense. Jack and Daniel just fit, like maybe they’d been moving towards being a couple since they first met and nobody had realized it.

He knew of two loud and well-placed generals who were clamoring for Jack to lose his job. It seemed that their biggest fear in doing so was Thor showing up and insisting on the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. That rumor was certainly not George’s idea, but he’d done nothing to disabuse it. Jack O’Neill was the right man for the job.

“So Teal’c, how’s your family?” Unlike Carter, who had already filled him in on Cassandra, Teal’c had to be asked directly about such things.

The Jaffa’s expression turned to one of fatherly pride which seemed to be a universal constant. “Rya’c continues to learn under the tutelage of Master Bra’tac. I believe that one day his skills will surpass my own. Kar’yn is demonstrating a talent for the organizational duties of the Free Jaffa. Ishta remains, as I, a servant of our people’s freedom.”

He mentioned Ishta with family. That was interesting.

A phone rang, and Jack said, “Excuse me.” Then he pulled out his cell phone and frowned at it. “Daniel, isn’t this Asgard?”

Daniel took one look at the phone and confirmed, “Thor’s calling.”

Jack stood up and moved a few feet away. “O’Neill. Hi Thor… no, it’s fine. General Hammond’s here.” Jack pulled the phone away a bit and addressed George. “Thor sends his greetings.”

“Give him my regards.”

“He heard. So, what’s up, Thor?”

“You know,” noted George, “I read the report, but there’s still something a little surreal about getting a phone call from the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet.”

“Better than getting beamed out of your living room without any warning,” said Daniel.

Jack was meanwhile insisted to Thor, “No clones… okay. If you really think it’ll help. But no clones… right… hey Thor, Daniel’s been wondering about your culture… I know… uh, sort of? No, don’t send it to the phone. That will overload my phone, and you wouldn’t believe the hassle to get a secure phone… you probably don’t have email, huh?”

This was one of the more interesting phone conversations George had sat in on in a while.

“Sure, if you can… of course you can. Appreciate it. You too.”

Jack titled his head, and the others seemed to take that as a signal to adjourn to the living room. George followed. “That was a courtesy call to get my permission for the Asgard to study my DNA, since it’s apparently sitting around tempting them. No clones. Thor promised.”

“Asgard culture?” prompted Daniel.

“Thor’s sending their most highly respected epic poem to the main computer on base. I’m supposed to warn you that the epic poems you might be familiar with are considered quite short by Asgard standards.” Daniel looked like he was tempted to run to the mountain before Jack even finished the statement.

Anyone sitting down in that living room would’ve said that the Asgard poem could provide insight into their valuable allies. They also would’ve known it was a far second to Jack’s real motivation: pleasing the man he loved.

* * *

 

As soon as Dr. Brightman let SG-2 out of their post-mission physicals, Warren headed off to find General Hammond. The general had been there all morning already, and no doubt had heard some unsavory comments about O’Neill and Jackson.

He found SGC’s former commander in Carter’s lab examining one of her latest projects: recreating material SG-2 had found that looked like long underwear but protected from staff blasts. “The lifesaving implications of this are incredible, Colonel.”

“It’s not perfect, sir. The material can only absorb the energy from one staff blast before it’s compromised.” The material would certainly give them better chances, since being able to take one direct hit from a staff blast was one more than they could before. Warren was aware from painful personal experience that the staff blast still left an ugly, painful bruise that took forever to heal. (Also, he had a heck of a time trying to explain it to his wife.) However, since he’d been alive, he hadn’t complained about the bruise. Much.

“Still,” said Hammond. Warren wondered if the general was thinking of Dr. Fraiser. He knew for a fact that Carter was, since the two women had been good friends.

“Excuse me,” he interrupted. “General Hammond, if you have a moment, I’d appreciate a word, sir.”

“Certainly.”

Carter smoothly supplied, “I need coffee. Anyone else?”

“No thank you.”

“No thanks.”

She left the room with a crisp, “Sirs.”

“Good to see you, Colonel,” said the general when they were alone.

“Thank you, sir. You as well. Permission to speak freely?”

“Go ahead.”

“No doubt you’ve heard a lot of negative reactions to news of General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson’s relationship.”

The general nodded, and Warren had served under his command long enough to know he wasn’t pleased about it. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. I’ve been approached my several officers.” And of course he’d gotten wind of what the enlisted personnel were saying, even if they didn’t dare approach him. Warren’s best bet was that Walter filled the general in.

“For the record, I think Jack O’Neill is the best man for the job. When you were promoted, sir, we lost a good commander. We were lucky enough to get another one. He’s retired so the regs don’t apply. Dr. Jackson hardly ever goes through the gate anymore, which takes care of concerns about bias so far as I’m concerned. The last decade has changed everything we know, and we need good people. To be blunt, General, I’m not willing to bet on second-best when the planet is at stake.”

Hammond smiled, and Warren was relieved he’d finally gotten that little speech over with. “That’s good to hear, Colonel. And I’ve heard from others who feel the same way. Jack is perfectly willing to retire in ignominy if it’s what’s best for this program. That’s just the kind of men the President – and the Pentagon, some more reluctantly than others – want running SGC: a man who puts the program above his career. Not to mention the IOC. I assure you, Jack’s sticking around.”

“Glad to hear it, sir.” Warren knew it would blow over in a month or so anyway. People would see that nothing had really changed, someone would come back a mermaid or some other crazy, only-at-SGC sort of thing, and O’Neill and Jackson would be old news. Sure, there would be the die-hard homophobes, but in a job that changed everything you knew about the universe, most people developed an open mind after a while, so Warren wasn’t too worried.

* * *

 

Daniel was sprawled out on the couch with Jack watching the national news when the doorbell rang. When he opened the door, Cassie was standing on the porch.

“Hi Daniel.”

He stepped aside, wordlessly inviting her in. “How are you?”

“Hey,” said Jack. “Good to see you.”

Cassie smiled cautiously. “As much as I like to see you guys, I have to ask a favor,” she said. “I’m taking Relationships and the Family for my second psych requirement, and we have to talk to a married couple about their first date.”

Daniel knew Jack wasn’t going to like this. “Uh, Cassie, you know we’re not mar-”

“I won’t use your real names. You’re the closest I’ve got. And the two of you are all but married. Hey, maybe you should go to Massachusetts…”

Jack groaned and headed for the fridge. “I’m gonna need a beer for this.”

Cassie knew they’d caved. But then, when it came to her, caving was hardly ever in question. “Thanks!”

“Thirsty?” called Jack while Daniel and Cassie went into the living room.

“No, thanks.”

“Bring me a water, will you?” asked Daniel as he turned off the television.

Cassie pulled out a notebook and pen. When Jack came in, he reluctantly asked, “So what does this assignment involve?”

“Just some basic questions about your first date. I’ve got a list.”

“Yay.” Jack took a swig of his beer. “Okay, shoot.”

She looked at the list. “How long had you known each other before you decided to date?”

“Eight years,” said Jack.

“Nine,” corrected Daniel.

“You were on another planet.”

“The question was how long we’ve known each other, not how long we’ve seen each other all the time.”

Cassie chuckled. “Nine years. Okay. Since you knew each other for years before dating, the next question is: what changed?”

Jack groaned. “I hate psychology.”

“ _We_ changed, Cassie,” supplied Daniel. “We aren’t the same people we were when we met.” That was completely true, on more levels than they would discuss. Oh, their fundamental natures hadn’t changed, but years of gate travel had its effects. Quite aside from their respective marriages, they understood each other in a way the hard-assed Colonel O’Neill and largely naïve Dr. Jackson who first went to Abydos never could have.

“Who asked out whom?”

“Jack asked me.” He decided to leave out the part where he’d first kissed Jack. That was between the two of them.

“Were you worried that dating might change your friendship?”

“I think it’s obvious you’ve gone beyond friendship if it’s a date,” pointed out Jack.

“You mean if it didn’t work out?” When Cassie nodded, Daniel continued, “No.”

“Why not?”

“I just knew it wouldn’t be an issue.” Not after everything they’d been through together.

“If we hadn’t killed each other by then,” said Jack, “I figured we had a pretty good friendship.”

Apparently that made sense, because she continued, “Where did you go?”

“Applebee’s.”

“Applebee’s?” asked Cassie incredulously. “That doesn’t seem like a very romantic place to go.”

“That was the idea,” Jack said. “Clandestine and technically illegal relationship, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Did you pick Daniel up?”

“Yes. And after we went to one of the little coffee shops he likes so much.”

“At the time, did it feel different than other dates? Dates where the relationship didn’t last?”

“It was different because we already knew each other so well.” Daniel sipped his water before continuing, “We didn’t ask about favorite books and movies or dream vacations. There were no awkward silences and I already knew how he was going to order his steak. It was different because I already had considerable feelings for him.”

Cassie didn’t even look up from her note-taking. “How about you, Jack? Anything to add?”

“That pretty much covers it.”

“Did you decide on a second date then and there?”

“I asked Jack to come with me to see _The Wizard of Oz_ shown to _Dark Side of the Moon_.” Daniel had put a good deal of thought into that one. Luckily he’d heard about the fundraising event for the local theater group.

“Obviously I said yes.”

She finally looked up. “The thing is, you guys aren’t like most people. I mean, some of these questions don’t apply. Maybe I’m making assumptions here, but since this started before you retired, Jack, it seems that you had to know the relationship had long-term potential if you were willing to take the risk.”

Jack agreed. “True.”

“And this one: did you picture yourselves having a future together?”

“Yes,” they answered almost simultaneously.

“How did the date end?”

“I dropped him off at his apartment.”

She prodded, “No kiss goodbye?”

“I _really_ hate psychology.”

“Yes,” Daniel answered.

“Last question: what did you think after the date?”

“It was good,” said Jack.

“I was looking forward to the next one.” Daniel had also been thinking Jack was a bit too gentlemanly with the kiss, but they’d agreed not to rush into a physical relationship. That wasn’t information Cassie needed, however.

“Thanks. I appreciate this.” She put her notebook away in her backpack. “So, how’s it going on base? Sam told me you were outed.”

Jack nodded. “Big time.”

“The mountain is sometimes like high school. Right now we’re the big news. Soon it will be something else.” He actually had read some interesting anthropological works on gossip in communities, but figured neither Jack nor Cassie really wanted to hear about it.

“Ouch,” said Cassie. “Don’t insult base personnel like that.”

Jack was quick to agree. “Yeah. You’re making me sound like a principal, and that’s just wrong.”

At that mental image, all three of them laughed.

* * *

 

Jack sat on the couch and put his feet up. “That was one heck of a birthday dinner.”

“I’m glad,” said Daniel.

“I haven’t had steak and lobster in years.” More years than he cared to remember, actually.

“And you didn’t mind…” Daniel trailed off, doing his I-know-you-probably-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it-but-I-need-to-know thing.

“No.” He really hadn’t. So there’d been a group of Marines out celebrating a promotion, and they’d given him and Daniel strange looks. Jack wasn’t going to let a few jarheads ruin his birthday. He so rarely had a birthday where some kind of crisis didn’t come up, and if he had to get older, he might as well get a nice meal out of it.

“Be right back.”

When Daniel reappeared, he was holding a neatly wrapped gift, which he handed to Jack before sliding down next to him on the couch. “Happy birthday, Jack.”

“It’s already happy.” He was full of steak and lobster, plus there was hot birthday sex to look forward to. How could it not be a happy birthday?

He ripped the wrapping paper in the corner and revealed a frame. Never one to unwrap gifts carefully, he yanked off the paper. Daniel had given him a neatly framed paper covered in large, handwritten Ancient. It was obvious that he’d put time and effort into the writing. “What’s it say?”

Daniel traced his finger over the glass. “To boldly go where no man has gone before.”

Jack laughed. “This is going in my office. It’s great, Daniel. Don’t think I’ll tell the brass what it really says, though, except Hammond.”

His boyfriend smiled happily. Daniel put a lot of thought into his gifts and was always glad when they were appreciated.

“Thanks, cariad.” Jack carefully set his gift down, propped up against the side of the coffee table. Then he pulled Daniel in for a kiss before adding, “I like it when you indulge my sense of humor.” This he followed up with another lingering kiss.

“You like it when I indulge you, period.”

“Well, yeah.”

Daniel had a particular talent for playing with Jack’s bottom lip that somehow involved both of his own lips and, if Jack was very lucky, tongue. For the life of him Jack couldn’t figure out what his lover did, but damn if it didn’t get him every time.

“Good thing I like indulging you,” whispered Daniel, right into Jack’s mouth.

“I’m a lucky man.”

Before going back to kissing, Daniel murmured, “And sexy.”

Sure, carrying on a conversation between kisses could be awkward, but it was working just fine so Jack went with it. “Stroking my ego for my birthday?”

“Your ego’s not the only think I’m planning to stroke.”

Okay, after that one Jack didn’t have a response. Well, not a _verbal_ response.

“Jack,” more kisses, “the way you were eating that lobster,” and there Jack finally got the tongue he’d been hoping for, “was positively indecent.”

He pulled Daniel on top of him, which upped the game considerably. Then, taking advantage of Daniel’s momentary disorientation, he set about deepening the kiss.

Daniel had other ideas. “Not so fast. I had to wait while you sucked butter off lobster. Payback’s a bitch.”

Except it wasn’t really, in this case. Not even close.

* * *

 

As Daniel Jackson was attending a conference, Teal’c was unsurprised to find O’Neill in his office past regular hours. “Hey, T.”

“Are you once again catching up on your paperwork?”

“Yeah. I could go for a break, though. Hungry?”

“That is the purpose of my visit.” He had suspected that, with Daniel Jackson out of town, O’Neill would be working late as part of his ongoing attempt to achieve the elusive goal of being caught up on paperwork.

“Have you heard from Daniel Jackson?” he asked as they left O’Neill’s office.

“He’s having a great time at the conference,” replied O’Neill. “Yesterday he had a whole new perspective on the divergence of the two branches of Gaelic.”

Teal’c did not understand that, but he was fairly certain he was not intended to.

“He’ll be back tomorrow, so you can ask him all about it Thursday.”

“I do not believe I require extensive knowledge of Gaelic.” In fact, he did not know anything at all about Gaelic, but he was content with that state of affairs.

O’Neill merely smirked and pressed the elevator button. “How’s the debit card working out?”

“I have established an Amazon.com account.” He used very little of his pay, since his needs were few. “I am considering ‘iTunes’ for a study of music. However, I still do not understand why my debit card could not have my name on it.” The name on his card was ‘T. Murray,’ because the Air Force was evidently concerned about an unusual name associated with an address at Cheyenne Mountain. For reasons unknown to him, they considered it a matter of security.

“A piece of advice: don’t try to understand bureaucrats. It just gives you a headache.”

Teal’c took the opportunity to ask, “Have you ever owned a pet rodent?”

“Nope. I’m a dog person.”

“Sergeant Bilder has a picture of his son with a pet hamster. He was most offended when I congratulated him on his son’s successful hunt.”

O’Neill smirked again. “I imagine he was.”

The Tau’ri concept of pets was foreign to Teal’c. Some of them grew emotionally attached to animals in a way that he would never understand. He had no problem grasping the keeping of canines, which could be useful to defend those who were less than able to defend themselves. Felines, too, had their uses: they would be valuable in places with an overabundance of rodents, and Dr. Fraiser had once told him that their purring was quite therapeutic. Jonas Quinn had found fish meditative to watch. Rodents, however, were another story. Teal’c simply could not fathom why any sane individual would wish to share their home with a rodent.

“I do not see the benefits to a pet rodent.”

“Maybe he has allergies,” suggested O’Neill.

“It is a rodent. Rodents are by nature destructive, as well as unsanitary.”

“Pets teach kids responsibility.”

“Surely there are other means.” Although it was preferable to instilling fear of a false god, at least.

“Really, pets are great for teaching responsibility. Dogs are better, of course, but the idea’s the same. There’s another living creature relying on the kid for all its needs. It’s a great way for kids to learn.”

“That would seem counterproductive with a rodent, since while certain rodents are cared for, others are exterminated.”

“Again, I’m a dog person. I’ve never had a hamster and never wanted one. But I guess for some kids it’s better than nothing.”

“Your world is a strange place, O’Neill.”

“Teal’c, the whole _universe_ is a strange place.”

That was a point he had to concede. O’Neill then added, “Have you heard of pet tarantulas?”

“What is a tarantula?”

“A big hairy spider.”

He had not, and could not begin to imagine why such a creature would be deemed an appropriate pet. “The entire universe may indeed be strange, but I suspect the Tau’ri have taken it upon themselves to find new and inventive methods of demonstrating this characteristic.”

“Why be normal when you can be a little crazy? It’s a lot more fun.”

Teal’c had a deep respect for the Tau’ri, particularly those with whom he worked and even more so the few he considered friends. However, there were aspects of them which he would never understand.


	4. Part IV

It might well have been the last really nice Sunday afternoon they had for a while, since it was already the beginning of November and warm for the time of year. So they’d decided to make the most of it by heading out to the Garden of the Gods.

Daniel considered the afternoon a success in that he’d managed to get Jack’s mind off Representative Amherst’s visit. The congresswoman was apparently a key player on the House Appropriations Committee (or was going to be once the new session began). Jack never liked dealing with politicians, and he especially disliked starting in with them first thing on a Monday morning.

They’d taken a break from their walk to snack on trail mix. “Nice place,” commented Jack, “but the name kinda gives me the creeps.”

“Oh?”

“Snakes,” said Jack by way of explanation.

“Wait until we go to Egypt.”

Jack gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed a handful of trail mix.

“Daniel? Daniel Jackson?”

He turned to see a face he hadn’t seen for over thirty years. In fact, he wasn’t even sure she was the woman he thought she was. “Maddie Bray?”

“Maddie Amherst, now.”

“Daniel,” said Jack while they stood up, “you didn’t tell me you know Representative Amherst.”

“I didn’t know it was her. Jack, this is Maddie. Her parents were my first foster parents. Maddie, this is Jack O’Neill.”

“Ma’am,” said Jack.

Maddie shook Jack’s hand with the same grace she’d had decades ago. “Fancy meeting you a day early. And Daniel! Goodness, it’s been what, thirty years? What are you doing these days?”

He gave her a little smile. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“The mystery deepens? Are you Air Force?”

“No, I’m a civilian consultant.”

Maddie gave him a somber look. “We should’ve kept in touch, Daniel. I’m sorry. After Mom died we just…”

“It was a long time ago,” he said. The child he’d been had ached at that loss, but the man he was understood it arose from their deep grief. The Brays had been good to him for three years. Mr. and Mrs. Bray were older and had decided to take in just one foster child. Daniel had seen Maddie, their adult daughter, on weekends and such. Then Mrs. Bray got pneumonia and passed away, and he was moved to another foster home. He still had fond memories of the Brays.

After making sure nobody was around, she leaned in and quietly said, “I can’t believe I come out to learn about a very expensive top-secret project and run into you!”

“We wouldn’t have this project without him,” Jack informed her.

“High praise! It doesn’t surprise me – you always were a smart one. All those languages…” she turned to Jack. “Have you ever tried to have a conversation with an eight-year-old who keeps slipping into Arabic? But you’d never know because his English was perfect, which just lulled you into a false sense of security.”

Jack got a good chuckle out of that one.

Maddie turned her attention back to him. “So I married, obviously, and I have two boys. How about you?”

Daniel got a tiny nod from Jack, so he went ahead with, “Jack’s my partner.”

She blinked a few times. “Ah.” Clearly not entirely thrilled but too polite to make a big deal, she changed the subject. “And how many languages are you up to now?”

“I lost count after twenty-five,” he said, which was more or less true. Counting was hard; Abydonian was similar to ancient Egyptian and could be considered the same language, and then his Unas wasn’t exactly fluent…

“Amazing. I don’t suppose one of them is lawyer-speak?”

“No.”

“Pity. I could use someone to tell me what the heck those guys are talking about.”

“Sorry. How old are your boys?”

“Twenty-seven and twenty-three. Elliot, the older one, is married and I’m going to have a grandchild soon.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” she beamed. “I -” A ringing interrupted her. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d get service here.” Pulling out her phone, she answered, “Hello, hon. Just a minute. It was lovely to see you again, Daniel. Pleased to meet you, Director O’Neill, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it,” lied Jack brightly. When Maddie was a few yards away, he added, “Small world.”

“Apparently.”

“Daniel.” That was Jack’s this-is-important tone, so he listened carefully. “We’re pretty well out now. You can tell anyone about us. Let them see how lucky I am.”

Since he felt just as fortunate, he gave Jack a loving look. “Oh good. Now I can stake my claim when necessary.

* * *

 

“Amherst isn’t bad, for a politician,” said Jack.

Daniel started pulling cans of chili ingredients out of the cupboard. “You’re just glad she things the program is worth the money.”

That was mostly true, but in his defense he added, “And she made through Carter-speak without flinching. It probably made more sense than half of what she hears in Washington, though.”

Both of their phones rang at the exact same minute. “Thor,” reported Daniel, who got to his phone first.

Thor was evidently calling both of them at once. Daniel said, “Hello?” while Jack said, “O’Neill.”

“Greetings.”

“Hi Thor,” said Jack.

“Are you otherwise occupied for the next ten of your hours?”

“Nooo,” said Jack, cautiously. Thor had never asked if they were busy before.

“I do not think it wise to visit Earth alone, even with my personal holographic projection device. Perhaps you would be willing to accompany me.”

“You’re coming to Earth?” asked Daniel disbelievingly.

Jack thought the odds were against him, but asked anyway, “Finally decide to go fishing?”

“No. I will transport you to my vessel.”

And with that, they were on Thor’s ship. Pocketing his phone, Daniel asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“I have not had the opportunity to take leave of my responsibilities as Supreme Commander for over five hundred years. I would like to visit Stockholm.”

Jack was incredulous. “Five _hundred_ years?”

“Yes.” That seemed perfectly normal to Thor. It sounded like a recipe for madness to Jack. Apparently the Asgard didn’t worry too much about accumulated stress.

Daniel cleared his throat. “This personal holographic projector, does it feel solid? Because that could be a problem.”

“I will augment it with a forcefield. This is not the first time I have used either in such a manner.”

“Of course,” muttered Daniel. “So, Stockholm?”

“Five hundred years and you want to see _Stockholm_?” Oh, Daniel was going to be on cloud nine with this one. Jack himself saw a lot of boredom in his immediate future, but it would be cruel to refuse when Thor had waited five hundred years for leave. And he could get pleasure from Daniel’s enjoyment, at least for the first few hours. He wondered what the Swedish were famous for. Meatballs? Gummy fish? As food went, it could be worse. Like Thor’s idea of food, for example.

“I have not been in some time.”

“The myths surrounding you are extensive,” began Daniel.

“Daniel, can we have the Reader’s Digest version? I’d like to get to Stockholm before we have to be back at the mountain.”

His lover didn’t look especially thrilled – he never liked being asked to condense – but clearly acknowledged the time constraint. “Maybe Thor can beam you down to get our wallets and coats.”

“Wallets?” asked Thor. “I do not believe those existed during my last visit. Are they related to the Post-Its Colonel Carter once discussed?”

“Not even close. They’re… uh, kinda like leather envelopes.” Jack wasn’t sure that was the best description ever, but Daniel was too busy trying not to laugh to reply so it was up to him. “They hold our IDs, credit cards, money – stuff you need when you’re going out of the country.”

“Get the passports too,” added Daniel, “just in case. Although I don’t know what you’ll do if you need to show ID, Thor.”

“I have prepared a ‘passport’ for myself,” the Asgard told them, “after researching requirements on your global network.”

Jack corrected, “Internet, Thor. It’s the internet.”

“I had not considered currency,” continued their alien friend. “I did not think it would be required.”

That seemed crazy to Jack, but Thor hadn’t been to Earth in centuries, so he had to be given certain leeway. Anyway, there would be no plane tickets or hotel room, so it couldn’t cost that much. “I guess it’s our treat.”

Thor had meanwhile stood up. He had a tiny little band around his skinny wrist, and after pressing the button on it he appeared to transform into a six-foot tall thirty-year-old blond linebacker. “I will transport you to your home. How long will you require?”

“Five minutes. Wow, it’s weird to hear you sound… well, normal.”

“Human-normal,” corrected Daniel. He was grinning, probably from a mixture of the absurdity and the opportunity to learn more about the Asgard. He did, at least, hold off his briefing on Norse gods long enough to say, “You should probably get rid of the tie.”

“Is this not appropriate attire?” Thor pushed a button and the slacks with dress shirt were replaced by jeans and a polo shirt. “Will my alternate selection suffice?”

“Don’t see why not,” said Jack “I’m ready to go when you are.”

That was some hologram, because Thor’s walk looked human. Stiff, but human. “I will transport you here in five minutes, O’Neill.”

Jack reappeared in the kitchen, shaking his head at the weirdness of his life. Not that he’d have it any other way, of course.

* * *

 

Sam was headed towards Daniel’s office to ask him about a possible cross-pollination. He spent a lot of time on cross-pollination of languages, and Sam figured that if the languages were related the technologies of the speakers might be too. At least, it was an idea, and with her current project those were few and far between.

“Daniel?”

“Hi Sam,” came his voice from behind one of his larger coffee mugs.

“You look tired.”

He nodded. “We only got two hours of sleep.”

Sam loved her friends, but if this was about their sex life, she didn’t think even veiled references were a good idea on base. “Uh, Daniel…”

“Stockholm was fun, though.”

That was confusing, but better. “Stockholm?”

“Thor stopped by.”

Well, that explained how they got to Stockholm and back. “What, he felt like visiting the old stomping grounds?” she asked.

“More or less. It’s too bad I couldn’t get many stories out of him. But it’s his first leave in 500 years, so I thought I’d better let him enjoy it in Stockholm, which meant no asking questions about classified history. I did learn that he never actually had kids, although Modi was his nephew, one of the last Asgard to be born -”

“Daniel.”

He finally looked up from his coffee, so she continued, “How did you walk around Stockholm with an Asgard?”

“Portable holographic generator. It’s a good thing the Asgard are smaller than we are. The coffee shop was a challenge. Thor hates coffee, by the way.”

Sam wasn’t sure why Thor would want to spend his first leave in 500 years on Earth. Maybe his family had been killed by the Replicators. Or possibly he got a really long leave after 500 years and needed a break from his family. “Did he like Stockholm?”

“He really liked the Tensta Konsthall.” At her blank look, Daniel explained, “Modern art.”

“I can only imagine how Jack felt about that.” Jack O’Neill in a museum of modern art. She would’ve liked to have seen that.

“Relieved that Thor appreciates art quickly.” After another drink of coffee, Daniel was fortified enough to go on. “He also wants you to make a cheesecake so Thor can try it.”

“He’s happy with any excuse to eat my cheesecakes.”

“They are good. Anyway, maybe tomorrow night. For some reason Thor wants to learn poker. Blame Jack, not me.”

“Cheesecake and poker. I’m in.” It was an opportunity too good (and surreal) to pass up, she decided, even though she didn’t like poker very much.

“I’m sure Thor will be glad to see you.”

“Tell Jack my cheesecake isn’t for eating with beer,” she added.

“ _You_ tell him.”

Daniel looked so tired Sam didn’t have the heart to fight back. She’d just have to make Jack leave the beer somehow. Or if she got a chance at the controls of Thor’s ship she could easily beam it back to Earth…

* * *

 

Master Sergeant Sylvester Siler was not having a particularly good day. He’d been ten minutes late to work because his son missed the bus – again. The kid needed to learn to get out of bed; failing that, he needed to pass his driving test so he could drive himself to school in some old, safe car. Worse still, Siler just had to be late on a day when O’Neill was waiting for him. The only good thing about that minor debacle was O’Neill’s soft spot for kids. The general (Siler couldn’t get the hang of thinking of O’Neill as ‘the director’) just let him off with a comment about getting his kid a louder alarm.

He’d spent his morning trying to figure out why the power had suddenly gone out on level 18 and had an afternoon full of paperwork awaiting him. Lunch was going to be over all too soon.

“Is this seat free?” he asked Staff Sergeant Wilkins.

“Of course, sir.”

Siler knew Wilkins because their daughters had been on the same cheering squad. “How’s Ellie?” he asked.

“Still loves college, but the charm of the dining hall has worn off. Deirdre?”

“She likes cosmetology classes a lot better than she liked high school classes.” It sometimes still amazed him that his daughter was legally an adult. Of course, that could’ve been because she was still living at home while she went to cosmetology school.

“Did you hear the latest, sir?”

“No.”

Wilkins was a good man and not prone to spreading malicious gossip. Siler didn’t want to hear speculation about O’Neill and Dr. Jackson ever again, but he thought a harmless story or two would do his own mood some good about then. Maybe Teal’c had a new hobby. Those were often highly entertaining. Siler’s personal favorite of Teal’c’s hobbies thus far had been his two-week long attempt to make the perfect paper airplane.

“General O’Neill, Colonel Carter, Dr. Jackson, and Teal’c played poker with Thor last night. On his ship.”

That was a new one. “Is there a basis for this?”

“Lieutenant Ulverstone heard the director and Colonel Carter discussing Thor’s poker face and that it was good they weren’t playing for money.”

Ulverstone was a fairly trustworthy source, at least. She wasn’t known for rumor-mongering. Of course, he seriously doubted that playing for money would mean much to the Asgard. “Interesting. I take it they didn’t do well.”

“Nobody’s dared ask for specifics. Bell thinks he heard something about a springform pan, but that doesn’t make much sense.”

“My wife has one of those. She uses it to bake.”

Wilkins shook his head. “Can you imagine it, sir? ‘What did you do last night?’ ‘Oh, played poker with the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. You?’ Not that they could tell anyone outside the base, but still.”

“SG-1: a legend in their own time.”

“Very true. I’ve got to run. Have a good afternoon, sir.”

“You too, Wilkins. And thanks for the update.”

For the rest of his lunch, Siler wondered what Thor thought of poker, presuming of course that the rumor was true.

* * *

 

Sometimes, Eddie could hardly believe how surreal his life was. He’d figured that unusual things would happen when he got involved with Sam, but there were days he couldn’t help but fall back on the old idea that truth is stranger than fiction.

There was nothing new about going to the movies. What was decidedly different was going to the movies with the hologram-disguised Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Nothing shook up a day quite like getting a call from your girlfriend asking, “Thor wants to try the human pastime of going to the movies. Want to come see _Beowulf_?”

Sam’s place was the closest to the movie theater, so the six of them reconvened there. To Eddie’s surprise, once they were settled in the living room with the good wine Thor deactivated his hologram.

“It is easier to drink without my holographic projection,” the Asgard explained.

“This is an alcoholic beverage,” warned Sam.

“That will have no effect on my physiology.”

Eddie filed that away under interesting scientific information.

There was something floating just to the side of Thor’s arm, which for all Eddie knew was the Asgard equivalent of a pocket. The little alien grabbed the object. “This is a collection of my past mission reports regarding Earth.”

Daniel launched himself up and eagerly took the reports. “Thank you, Thor. This is amazing!” It was clearly an act of willpower for him to set the reports aside for later, and he kept giving the device longing glances.

“So, Thor, what do you guys do on leave?” asked Jack. “Besides visit Earth, I mean.”

The Asgard finished his taste of wine. “This beverage is preferable to your coffee. As for the first part of my leave, O’Neill, I played a game of njorgen with my nephew.”

That finally got Daniel to stop eyeing Thor’s data device. “Njorgen?”

“ _A_ game? As in, one?” prompted Jack.

“It is a very complex game. Ours took over two of your weeks, which is shorter than usual.”

“And I thought chess could go on forever,” commented Eddie. He figured he’d probably need the Asgard equivalent of Go Fish.

Daniel, predictably, wanted more details. “What does this game involve?”

“A series of interconnected, randomly generated puzzles.”

“More importantly, who won?” asked Jack.

“I did.”

“Sounds like fun,” said Sam.

Jack retorted, “Only to you.”

“It is an enjoyable recreational application of theoretical mathematics.”

Teal’c noted, “That does indeed sound like an activity Colonel Carter would enjoy.”

“Unfortunately, the interface does not respond well to human brains.”

Sam was the only one remotely disappointed. Eddie figured that he’d have ended up playing with her if humans could play the game (at least until she got bored beating him), because love made a man do strange things. He did manage a little disappointment on Sam’s behalf, but not much.

“Did you like _Beowulf_?” asked Teal’c.

“It was an interesting experience. However, I believe there were some in the audience far less interested in the movie than I had expected.”

Jack gave the alien a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

Sam, who had taken Thor on the requisite popcorn run, was smirking. “The couple in the back row.”

“Ah. The back row.” Jack nodded, satisfied.

“I’ve never understood that,” mused Eddie. “If you’re going to start making out fifteen minutes into the movie, why not just save the money and stay home?”

Thor turned to him. “This activity is not uncommon?”

“No.”

“What were those humans doing?”

Sam and Jack were busy trying not to laugh. Daniel was looking at the mission reports. Teal’c… well, he was hard to read, but Eddie guessed he was happy to have someone else who thought humans were sometimes very strange. When it was clear nobody else would answer, Eddie gave a small, resigned sigh. “It’s an expression of physical intimacy.”

“That is a peculiar pastime for a public viewing venue,” said Thor.

Truth was definitely stranger than fiction.

* * *

 

For four days, Daniel had spent every waking moment reading Thor’s mission reports. Sam had helped him upload the reports onto the base computer system, and he had a copy on his laptop. Jack had taken to periodically dropping food in front of his lover for fear the man wouldn’t eat otherwise.

“Stew’s ready,” he told Daniel, who failed to look up. “Daniel.”

“Hmm?”

“Stew’s ready.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll have to come to the table.” He’d decided it was time his boyfriend rejoined the real world.

Of course there was no way of knowing if Daniel would agree, so Jack just served himself a bowl of beef stew. But Daniel had apparently gotten the message, because he came into the kitchen.

“I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”

He grabbed another bowl and filled it for Daniel. “A bit. Grab the spoons, will you?”

“I’m sorry. This is just such incredible information, I…”

“I know, Daniel. It’s fine.” Daniel wouldn’t be Daniel if he didn’t get caught up in his work.

Jack put the bowls on the table and was about to sit down when Daniel turned him around and kissed him. It was a slow, relaxed kiss, which he’d missed over the past few days. “You are too good to me,” said Daniel.

“I try. Also, you agreed to do the grocery shopping for the next month.” He was rather pleased with himself for coming up with that one. Daniel agreed to anything with a distracted, ‘uh-huh,’ which just begged to be taken advantage of.

“I take it back.”

“So, give me the short version of what you’ve learned all this time.”

Daniel sat down and thought for a minute. He could launch into a spiel on a dime, but had to collect his thoughts before giving a condensed version. “The Asgard fought off an attempt by Camulus to take people from northern Europe. I imagine that the actions were quite spectacular to humans. Riding a thunderbolt, for instance.”

“Beam me up, Thor.”

“See? These mission reports are valuable resources. Someday, there will be scholars thrilled to have all that paperwork you complain about.”

“Only because they don’t have to fill it out,” countered Jack.

Daniel just dug into his beef stew. “Any plans for tonight?”

“I’m hoping for you, me, the couch, and a big bowl of popcorn. For starters, that is.”

“What’s on?”

“ _Top Gun_.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of _Top Gun_?” asked Daniel.

“No.” Except the part where Goose died – he could do without that. It reminded him of too many good men who’d died.

“I can live with that for starters, as long as we end the night working off the popcorn.”

Jack had plans for that, too. Of course. “I was planning on it.”

“Is there anything else other than grocery shopping I should know about?”

“Teal’c’s reading _The Art of War_. Hasn’t even finished it and is already planning to translate it into Goa’uld.”

“I thought the Free Jaffa wanted their own language.”

“Apparently they decided they have bigger issues.” Personally, Jack had thought that all along.

“I can see how _The Art of War_ would appeal to Jaffa.”

“At least he’s not translating the _National Enquirer_.” That could give a bad impression. Teal’c understood the concept of a fringe audience, but that had taken some time to get that important point across.

“True.” After another spoonful of stew, Daniel said, “Thanks, cariad.”

“You’re welcome. What did I do?”

His lover gave him a little grin. “You let me have my time in an ivory tower, but give me a reason to leave it.”

“Sure,” he said, touched that he alone was reason enough for Daniel to leave his world of research. “Anytime, Daniel.” 


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first section here I tried to offer a realistic and not entirely villainous perspective from a homophobic man having his preconceptions challenged. Hopefully that comes across as I intended.

Major Adam Roth was on his way into Home Depot for a new set of drill bits when, in the parking lot, he passed General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson. They seemed to interact much the same as they did at work.

“At this rate we’re gonna need an addition,” complained the general. “Are you trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for the most books owned by a single person?”

That, Roth supposed, explained the bookcase set they were wheeling out.

Dr. Jackson replied, “Don’t tempt me.”

Roth nodded at them as they passed. O’Neill nodded back, but Jackson appeared not to notice him. Of course, he was busy trying to steer a cart he could only half see past. If the box was any indication, they’d just bought a pretty big bookcase.

The blast of heat the hit him as soon as he stepped through the automatic doors was very welcome. It was a cold and windy Saturday in Colorado Springs. Roth headed to find his drill bits, but he was still thinking about O’Neill and Jackson.

Honestly, they upset the way that, in his mind, the universe was ordered. Roth had been raised a religious man and remained certain in his faith. Some people thought that because the ancient Egyptian gods were aliens, that invalidated any religion. To Roth, that was a ridiculous line of reasoning. Of course in his mind any other deity was a false god anyway.

He had plenty of reasons to believe in God. His marriage survived, despite the secrets he had to keep, because he and Libby built it with God. Neither of them had particularly wanted children, but God in His infinite wisdom sent them a child anyway, and they adored their Doug, finding it hard to imagine life without the boy. In Atlanta, Roth’s sister had recently celebrated ten years of sobriety, something she was quick to credit God for managing. Every time he stepped through the stargate and saw something amazing, like the red mountains of the last mission, he failed to see how anyone could believe it came about by random chance. And then, of course, there was the fact that no matter how many times Earth face destruction, it remained.

Therein was the problem. Because both O’Neill and Jackson had more often than not been among the agents saving the Earth. Also, they’d managed to do it without dying. Or at least dying permanently. (The theology of that didn’t bother him much. Lazarus had been a regular human who died, too. Most people on base didn’t understand the depths of Roth’s faith, but they accepted that it was real.)

Anyway. The thing of it was, if God hated homosexuality, Roth had a hard time picturing why He would have O’Neill and Jackson save the planet so often and live to tell of it. As far as Roth could figure it, the fact that all four original members of SG-1 had survived even one year had been nothing short of a miracle. For O’Neill and Jackson to be alive, sane, and relatively unhurt (sure, Jackson had to leave active field duty because of that foot injury, but the Asgard had fixed him up so well it hardly even seemed to slow him down); for them to have been used to save Earth, plus a lot of other planets, countless lives, and of course one couldn’t forget that they’d helped save the whole _universe_ from the Replicators… all in all, Roth had a hard time seeing how God could be too upset with them.

In any event O’Neill was still Director of Stargate Command. As a civilian, he was free to conduct his personal life however he wanted. Moreover, Roth had no cause to question O’Neill’s ability to do the job. Even on the occasions he disagreed with the general’s decision, he knew that O’Neill had the field experience, strategic abilities, and of course alien connections needed to do the job better than anyone. (He’d been told General Hammond was a good leader, but that was before Roth was assigned to SGC.) And Dr. Jackson, who’d always been a civilian anyway, was still a genius. So whatever sins they might be committing, well, that was between them and God. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” Roth didn’t want them to leave SGC, because the program needed them.

He considered himself to be a reasonable man, and he wasn’t inclined to make any rash intellectual changes, but he was clearly going to have to do some further reading. The secrecy aspect was bothersome, because he’d very much have liked to discuss his thoughts with Libby and Pastor Farrow. It was just possible, Roth was forced to admit to himself, that God wasn’t so bothered by homosexuality after all.

* * *

 

Daniel was in his office reviewing MALP footage of a monument which had Goa’uld writing. Interestingly, the grammar didn’t seem to be quite right, as though whoever wrote the text had only the most basic education. That hardly ever happened on large monuments. _Here entombed is Marnak_ , he translated.

Jack stalked in, clearly in a bad mood. Daniel paused the footage. “Hi Jack.”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“Since Thor’s making a habit of calling us at home and beaming us up, we get to have the latest anti-surveillance equipment put in.” Of course, the latest anti-surveillance was considerably more advanced at SGC than elsewhere, since Thor had provided Sam with a helpful prototype. She’d tried to explain the brilliance of using subspace as a way to counter bugs. Daniel had been lost. Jack just wanted to know if cell phones would still work. (They would.)

Daniel nodded, understanding the reasoning. “The Air Force is still worried about remnants of the Trust.”

“Got it in one.”

Daniel considered his words carefully. “So we know we’ll have privacy.”

“Sure,” scoffed Jack, “ _after_ Hosmer’s people finish crawling through our house.”

Ah. Now he understood. “Better than having the Trust listening in.”

“True,” conceded Jack.

“I want to be there.” There was no telling how Hosmer and his crew would treat artifacts and old books. He intended to personally supervise anything that happened in his office.

“I figured. We’re off Thursday afternoon to keep an eye on them.”

“You too?”

“I’m not letting anyone poke around the house without me in it.”

That was fair enough. Daniel happened to glance back at the MALP footage, and what he saw made him forget all about the house.

_Here entombed is Marnak_

_Like Ra but different as day to night_

“Jack!”

“Got something?”

“Look at this.”

Jack eyed the footage. “Looks like Goa’uld.”

“It is. Not grammatically correct Goa’uld, by the way. It says: ‘Here entombed is Marnak, like Ra but different as day to night, the one who ensured freedom among us.’”

“Tok’ra?”

“It’s the best explanation for ‘like Ra but different as day to night.’ And there’s more. ‘He alone is worthy to spend eternity in the splendid chamber, the sarcophagus of Ra. Marnak, hero to all, may his memory be cherished while there are any who draw breath.’”

“I’m guessing they didn’t know about the revival functions of a sarcophagus,” said Jack.

“Apparently not.”

“Do you know how old this is?”

“No.” And the planet no longer had any human inhabitants to ask, either.

Jack frowned slightly. “We probably have a Tok’ra who could, for all we know, be sarcophagus-crazy by now.”

“Maybe not. If the sarcophagus is in stasis mode,” a term he made up on the spot for lack of a better one, “it isn’t really active in the same way, so it might not have the same effects.”

“That’s a lot of maybes.”

“Unfortunately.”

“I’ll talk with the Tok’ra, see if this Marnak was one of them and if he’s still got all his marbles, presuming he’s still alive.”

“And if he was, should, and is?”

“Then we send a team, and probably a couple of Tok’ra,” Jack acknowledged with a grimace, “to spring Marnak.”  

Since Jack never liked dealing with the Tok’ra, Daniel pointed out, “They’ll owe us again.”

“Yes, because that always works out so well.”

There was just no reasoning with Jack about the Tok’ra, but he had good cause to mistrust them.

* * *

 

Kelly had to walk past General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson’s house every morning and every afternoon, on her way to and from the bus stop. (And she couldn’t wait until she was old enough to _drive_ past.) This particular afternoon, besides their vehicles, two black SUVs were parked in their driveway and a car was on the side of the street. All of them had government license plates. Moreover, her neighbors’ house was crawling with airmen.

She liked the neighbors. Of course, the first time she met them, they went over and took care of the drunken creep, so it was no surprise she liked them. For some reason, in Kelly’s head a retired Air Force general had been a mythical, imposing figure, so she’d been surprised that General O’Neill was basically a normal guy. (Which, in retrospect, was a pretty silly thing to be surprised about.) They were nice neighbors, even if they did sometimes disappear for a few days.

Her mom had told her they couldn’t talk about what they did, because it was classified. The two of them were very mysterious, therefore, which Kelly found intriguing. And there was that whole business where General O’Neill talked to the president.

She must’ve been staring, because Dr. Jackson came outside. “Hi Kelly.”

“Hi Dr. Jackson. Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Just a few security measures.”

Security measures – that was another mark in the ‘mysterious’ column. She said the first thing that came to mind. “Wow, it’s like _24_.”

Dr. Jackson laughed a little at that, but it was a friendly laugh, not the patronizing kinds adults sometimes made when they thought something was dumb. “It’s not really, but I guess it sort of looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“Only Jack Bauer never seems to be home.”

He smiled at that, then got serious. “This isn’t secret, exactly, but we try to keep a low profile. I’m not asking you to keep anything from your mom, but we’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread this all over.”

Kelly liked that he wasn’t talking to her like a kid. She was fifteen, and old enough to understand that they didn’t want half of Colorado Springs wondering why they needed so much security. “Okay. But this isn’t something that we have to worry about, right? I mean, since we live next door.” And everyone knew terrorists didn’t worry about things like accidentally killing the neighbors.

“No. Nothing to worry about. This,” Dr. Jackson indicated the black SUVs with his hand, “is just a precaution, and it’s certainly not indicative of any kind of physical danger, particularly to you.”

“Definitely not like _24_.” It seemed like everyone was in danger on that show.

“No. How’ve you been?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Geometry is a nightmare, but that’s nothing new. Math has always been my weakest subject.”

“I never liked it either.”  

General O’Neill stuck his head out the door. “Daniel, they’re about to start in your study.”

“Excuse me, Kelly. I have to go make sure priceless artifacts don’t get broken.”

“I’ve got a French test to study for.”

“Bon chance.”

She nodded. “Merci.”

The best thing about mysterious neighbors, she reflected while going home, was that it gave her something to make up stories about. Kelly was forever making up stories, and she wanted to be a writer someday. In the meantime, General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson gave her a basis for really cool adventure stories. This was not something she would ever tell them, although for some reason she didn’t think they’d mind.

As long as her life was normal and average, she liked to escape to more excitement through stories. And what better place to start than her neighbors? She went to the cupboard for a snack and starting thinking of reasons they’d need so much security at home.  

* * *

 

Having successfully seen off the Tok’ra with a sane Marnak, they’d decided a celebration was in order. The celebration had taken the form of Sam and Teal’c coming over and the four of them ordering all their favorite Chinese. They were stuffed and had plenty of leftovers as well.

“Do you think we’ll be at SGC until we retire?” asked Sam.

“What I think is that I’m cutting you off,” said Jack, moving the wine bottle away from her.

Daniel just grinned. Sam did tend to get a little philosophical after a glass of wine too many, but none of them were even halfway to drunk and Jack was just teasing.

“Seriously,” she insisted.

“Well, that’s a yes for me. Maybe not for you.”

“Yeah, Sam,” agreed Daniel, “you’re the baby here, remember.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Laugh now, Daniel. I’m just waiting for you to find your first gray hair.”

He had an easy counter for that. “How bad do you want your over-the-hill party to be?”

It was Teal’c who got them back on topic. “I believe there will come a time when my services are no longer required.”

“And what will you do then?” asked Sam.

“I will return to my people and my family.”

“There’s nothing else I want to do now that I can.” Daniel took another sip of his wine before continuing, “If the stargate becomes public knowledge, I’d like to teach.”

“And your book,” reminded Jack.

“Book?” asked Teal’c.

“Oh, just something I’ve been working on once in a while.” In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever finish that project, since his work kept him quite busy. “It’s a manuscript for an accurate history of ancient Egypt, for when the stargate program is declassified. Even if I’m not around any more by that time, though I’d like to think it won’t be that long.”

Jack had his own thoughts on the timetable subject, which were best summed up as ‘don’t get your hopes up.’ He refrained from sharing, instead saying, “Maybe I should write my memoirs when I retire.”

Sam ignored that and turned her gaze to Daniel. “I’ve never spent so long in one place in my entire life.” 

“Realizing you’ve grown roots?” suggested Jack.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be around SGC until there’s something newer and harder to make work,” predicted Jack, “when you won’t be able to pack fast enough.”

Daniel supposed that Air Force officers weren’t used to bonding so closely, never mind staying in one place so long. He thought the moment called for a little SG-1 family affirmation, so he said, “We can always build an addition so you two can come visit at the same time.”

“We might have to dig the bed out from under books and artifacts,” groused Jack, but it was all good-natured and everyone knew it.

“And if that doesn’t happen?” asked Sam, who was in an unusually introspective mood that evening.

Jack shrugged, “Nobody better to command SGC once I retire for good.”

In Daniel’s experience, they always seemed to end up exactly where they needed to be, so he wasn’t worried about the future. Besides, whatever came their way, he and Jack would tackle it together.

* * *

 

None of Sam’s experiments had produced dramatically unpleasant results for a while, so she was probably overdue. This time, a strange mobile power source she’d been studying had sort of spontaneously combusted, as best as Jack could understand. Aside from a small burn on her left hand, she seemed alright, thankfully. Dr. Brightman, as usual, was erring on the side of caution.

“I’m fine, really,” insisted Sam, “Which is more than I can say for the power source. What a shame.”

Brightman wasn’t convinced. “Colonel, you were just exposed to an entirely new form of electrocution. I doubt you’re fine. There’s that burn on your hand, for one thing.”

“Nothing a relaxing weekend at home won’t cure.”

“All the same, I have serious reservations about letting you go. We don’t know what the potential effects of this electrocution might be. Is Dr. Hallowell available to stay with you?”

“He’s offworld.”

“I’m not comfortable having you alone, Colonel.”

Jack gave Daniel a questioning look and got a little nod in return, so he offered, “Our guest room is free.” Mostly free, anyway – there was room for the bed between Daniel’s bookcases and desk. It wasn’t the infirmary, which was the point. She had never stayed at his house overnight before, but since everyone knew he was with Daniel there was no worry about tainting her career anymore.

“We can outvote Jack on which movie to watch,” added Daniel.

“I’m not sure I should push the bounds of hospitality that far, but I’ll take you up on your offer of the guest room. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I’ve got a debriefing, but it should be done by 1645. Is that okay, Doc?”

“I suppose, as long as I fill Dr. Jackson in on a few basics.”

“See you then,” he said on his way out the door.

Another perk of being in charge was that he could be four minutes late for debriefings and nobody would say a thing. Instead, Colonel Warren asked, “How’s Colonel Carter, sir?”

“Other than a little burn on her hand, fine. I think she’s more bothered by losing her toy.”

“Good to hear.”

“So,” he said as he took his seat, “how was P6M-417?”

“Well, sir,” said Captain Osier, shifting in his seat, “they’re very short.”

“Because of the planet’s high gravity,” explained Lieutenant Redd.

“And, ah, have you seen the _Lord of the Rings_ movies?” asked Osier.

“Yes.” Hadn’t everyone?

“For future reference, sir, teams visiting P6M-417 should be aware that the natives are under the impression that ‘hobbit’ is a term denoting high respect.”

“You called them hobbits, huh?”

Osier failed to completely hide his blush, evidently unaware that Jack was mostly amused because he might’ve done the same thing. “They have very good hearing, sir.”

It could have been worse. “At least they weren’t orcs.”

* * *

 

Sam never packed light. In the field, she was all business, laden with sample containers, tools, and testing equipment. Daniel wasn’t entirely sure what she had filled her duffel bag with when they stopped at her house on the way home. She had a semi-secret passion for skin care which required multiple products with names like Intense Hydrating Serum. Daniel knew better than to ask for details.

“You’re in luck,” Jack told Sam. “You get to be here for Daniel’s gourmet frozen lasagna.”

“The cheap stuff is revolting,” explained Daniel, who had at length gotten Jack to switch to an edible brand of frozen lasagna. The cheap kind Jack had bought before was almost like the MRE lasagna, which Daniel had eaten quite enough of in the past several years.

“Gourmet lasagna sounds great. Thanks for having me here.”

“Hey, what good are friends if they won’t get you out of the infirmary?” asked Jack.

“Glad to,” said Daniel. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m all set.” She held up a blue paperback. “Finally getting to the book Cassie loaned me.”

He looked at the title: _Midwives_. “Planning a career change?”

“It’s a novel.”

Daniel thought some pleasure reading was a great idea. “All set?” he asked Jack.

His partner waved in the general direction of the living room. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

In the living room, Sam had settled in on a chair with her novel. “What are you reading?” she asked him.

“ _Clastidium_ by Gnaeus Naevius. It’s a Roman play celebrating victory over the Celts.” To most people, his pleasure reading sounded a lot like his work reading, but that was the way Daniel liked it. He did also read more modern books in the languages he spoke that were still in use on Earth, because it was a good way to keep his linguistic knowledge fresh. Last time he was at his favorite bookstore he’d picked up _War and Peace_ in the original Russian.

“This is why I don’t borrow your books,” remarked Sam. She was one to talk. Most of her reading material was physics journals.

Jack came in and managed to restrict himself to one wistful glance at his _Simpsons_ DVDs before grabbing his reading glasses and his latest novel, some sort of hockey tale. It had taken a few months, but he had finally come to a grudging acceptance of the glasses. Grudging because he still blamed it on a combination of head injuries and alien mind whammies. Daniel thought they were sexy.

“Is there a game tonight?” asked Sam.

“Baseball season’s over and hockey season hasn’t started yet,” replied Jack. Daniel knew these things now, because Jack cared. He’d also learned that it could’ve been a lot worse. At least Jack wasn’t a big football fan.

Despite a valiant effort, Sam failed to cover her pleasure at that response.

Daniel decided that he wanted contact with Jack, so he repositioned himself. He grabbed one of the couch pillows (the Egyptian-motif set had been his birthday gift from Sam, and it got more use than he’d anticipated) and dropped it on Jack’s lap. That done, he made himself comfortable on his partner’s lap. When Jack wasn’t turning pages, his hand rested on Daniel’s shoulder.

Sam looked over, gave them an approving smile, and resumed her reading.

This was the kind of everyday moment that they worked so hard to ensure the rest of the planet could enjoy. It had taken years to get to a point where he could enjoy them himself, but Daniel considered it worth the wait.

* * *

 

Saturday afternoon, Sam ended up helping Daniel rope Jack into playing Scrabble. It was the SG-1 version of Scrabble, which included words such as zat and al’kesh (Daniel had once quibbled over the apostrophe but finally conceded that it was transliteration anyway). They had an ongoing competition to see who could make ‘naquadah’ and Sam suspected it was the main reason Jack had any interest in playing. He really wanted to beat Daniel to ‘naquadah.’

She wished she could at least talk with Eddie on the phone, but he was in the middle of a two-week exploration of a swamp on P2Y-409. The ecosystem was apparently full of cancer-fighting free radicals, and she knew it was important research. One of the reasons their relationship worked so well was that they shared a love of science. Sam knew Eddie loved her, but at that moment he was as captivated by the swamp as she would be by a shield generator.

She needed a man who understood how much her work defined her. She had loved Pete, and he’d loved her far more than she deserved, but he had never quite been able to see how so much of her identity was tied up with her work. Sam needed a man who understood that her devotion to her job and career precluded the ‘normal’ life. Eddie got it because he was the same way. So she missed him, but she understood completely. To some people it might seem like an odd relationship, but it worked for them. Sometimes they had romantic dinners and sometimes they passionately discussed research breakthroughs. Their love was grounded in the understanding that they were both relentless in their pursuit of scientific knowledge. It wasn’t a “normal” relationship. Her experience with Pete had taught her that she didn’t want that.

Aside from missing Eddie, she was having as good a weekend as it was possible to have with a burnt hand. Teal’c had returned from a mission that morning and called, promising to take her to IHOP for Sunday breakfast. It was nice to relax with Jack and Daniel. Since Jack’s retirement, they were free to act like the friends they were, on bonds forged through so much time spent together sharing offworld experiences. SGC hadn’t just given Sam the most fulfilling career she could imagine; it had also given her friends so close they were family.

Plus, she’d just spotted a great word she could make. “X-E-N-O-N, xenon,” she said, putting down the tiles. “Double word score for twenty-four points.” Since she was the scorekeeper, she added the points to her total.

Daniel nodded. “Good one.”

“You have science words. Daniel has archaeology words. I’m playing with a handicap,” huffed Jack.

“English isn’t Teal’c’s first language and he doesn’t complain as much as you do,” retorted Daniel.

“Teal’c doesn’t complain unless there are mosquitoes involved. I don’t think it’s a fair comparison. Besides, you know how he is with the Goa’uld words.”

Truthfully, Teal’c wasn’t a huge Scrabble fan either. When it came to board games, he and Jack shared a preference for chess and Risk. Sam had yet to win Risk against either of them. But Teal’c liked trying different games. Under Apophis he didn’t have the freedom to do anything simply because it might be fun, and Sam guessed that his constant experimentation with hobbies was a way of making up for that.

“You have sports words,” she told Jack while Daniel studied the board.

“Not the same.”

She decided against encouraging him by asking why not and instead offered, “I can loan you some reading material if you want to learn more physics words.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Surprise, surprise,” muttered Daniel. “Pass me the chips, cariad?”

“What is that?” asked Sam. “That word you guys use.”

“It’s Welsh,” supplied Jack, as though that explained everything.

“For ‘beloved,’” added Daniel, which was more helpful.

“That’s sweet,” she said. She figured she could get away with calling Jack sweet. Hopefully. If not, she’d have to plead the injured card. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known for years that he had a soft side. She’d seen him with Cassie.

“If other people start associating me with sweetness, you’ll be sorry,” warned Jack.

Daniel briefly looked up from rearranging his letter tiles. “He has entirely too much fun with his hard-ass image.”

This was true. And that image had recovered nicely from their being outed. Some people were still uncomfortable on principle, but everyone had seen that SGC operations continued as they always had, and life went on.

Jack insisted, “It’s a highly effective command strategy.”

Daniel just rolled his eyes. Sam figured she had it pretty good. Not only did she have friends who freed her from the infirmary, they also provided entertainment.


	6. Part VI

Another Monday, another unscheduled offworld activation and a long wait with no IDC. Jack was bracing himself for the knowledge that they might be killing another person when the computer beeped.

“Sir, it’s the code assigned to Dr. Ballard,” reported Walter.

“Open the iris.” Meanwhile, Jack went to the phone and dialed Daniel’s extension.

“Hello,” said Daniel, clearly distracted.

“We just got your grandfather’s IDC.”

“I’m on my way.”

Jack hung up the phone and headed down to greet his lover’s grandfather.

“Colonel, good to see you!”

“Retired general now. Welcome back.” He shook Nick’s hand, noting the weak grip. “Daniel’s on his way down.”

“Thank you for not turning me into a bug on a windshield. Get the code right or you’re dead – nothing like a little pressure.”

“Don’t let Carter hear you say ‘bug on a windshield,’ or you’ll have to listen to her explain why it’s not a good comparison.” That he knew from personal experience.

“I’m not planning to stick around long enough.”

Daniel came barreling in before Jack could ask for clarification, having possibly set a new speed record. “Nick!”

“Daniel. You look good. And don’t lie by telling me I do. I’m dying. They can transport people with crystal skulls, but decades of smoking are beyond them.”

“Infirmary,” ordered Jack.

Nick asked, “Has anyone found a cure for emphysema while I was gone?”

“No, but…”

“Then I’m going to go back and spend my last few days learning while I still can. If I could just have a few hours with Daniel?”

“Of course,” agreed Jack. “But we can’t let you take a GDO when we know that you will no longer be in possession of it shortly.”

“No surprise there.”

“We’ll give you a radio, though.”

“Sure.”

“Have you learned about any big honkin’ space guns?”

“Military,” sighed Nick. “No. They have shared nothing with me that will interest you.”

“We’ll be in my office,” said Daniel.

Jack nodded and went back to his own office. He was way out of his depth with Daniel’s experience of family. It was difficult for him to have a high opinion of a man who abandoned his own grandson. He knew that in a lot of ways he had an ideal family life as a kid. As an adult, he’d maintained good relationships with his parents until their deaths. Sure, his career meant he didn’t always see them often, but they were family. That had always meant something to him and it still did, even when the only remaining member of his family that he kept in touch with was Aunt Kate. It wasn’t constant contact and long heart-to-heart conversations or anything like that. But family, to Jack, was more than just writing Aunt Kate’s birthday on every new calendar so he remembered to send flowers. It was knowing that, if push came to shove, family came together.

Daniel had lost that when he was eight and not found it again, in a different form, until he joined SG-1. He pretended that his grandfather’s refusal to raise him no longer bothered him, but Jack knew better.

All of this left Jack in territory that he’d been familiar with for a very long time. He really wanted to be what Daniel needed, but he had no idea what that was. At least Daniel usually got around to plainly saying what he needed from Jack.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

They hadn’t carpooled, since Jack had an early teleconference with Washington, so it wasn’t until Daniel got home that they had a chance to talk privately. Jack was already home, frowning at the mostly-empty refrigerator.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. Pass me a Dr. Pepper?” Daniel didn’t often indulge in soda, because it was either pure sugar or a mix of chemicals and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Also, carbonated drinks did nothing for thirst. But he felt he deserved one at that point. Jack handed the soda over and grabbed one for himself instead of a Heineken – his way of saying that he wasn’t trying to evade a potentially difficult conversation. It had taken Daniel ages to decode that and he still didn’t understand the logic behind it.

The sat on the couch in comfortable but expectant silence for a minute before Daniel spoke. “The giant aliens are called the Akmayans. Which, obviously, is where name Mayan came from. Nick gave me the journals he’s kept while he was there. Archaeologically and anthropologically they’re treasures. Militarily they look pretty useless.”

The biggest different between the Daniel Jackson he was and the Daniel Jackson he used to be was that he was a little sorry. Not that he liked weapons or violence, but it would’ve been nice if the secret to a great weapon against the Goa’uld was in the journals. Ideally, one with a renewable power source, because that was the flaw with the Ancient outpost. Ba’al was the only System Lord still a threat, and he seemed pretty busy fending off challenges from Telchak and trying to finally crush Amaterasu. Still, they were still out there, and Earth would never really be safe while they were.

“So, he just went back?”

“Yes.” Daniel took a long drink of his Dr. Pepper, letting the carbonation burn his throat a little. “He was never a good grandfather. Never a good father either, I suspect. But he’s a good archaeologist.”

“So, it doesn’t matter that you’re his grandson? To him, you’re just a handy guy to pass the buck to?” Jack was clearly disturbed by that idea. Family meant something more to him than that.

“No. If that was all, he’d have asked the Akmayans to send the journals after he died.” Showing up at all was Nick’s way of showing that, insofar as he was able, he did care. It had always been that way – a few hours here, a weekend there. Imminent death hadn’t changed his grandfather. “He did what he’s always done, Jack: gave me what he was capable of giving.”  

“Huh.”

“He asked about my work. He even asked if I was happy. I didn’t end up telling him about you.” Daniel fervently hoped Jack understood his reasons. “I don’t think he would’ve been bothered, but…”

“I get it,” said Jack, to Daniel’s great relief. “You didn’t want it to end badly.”

“Right. And he didn’t ask. As long as I’m happy, it was back to work. That’s Nick.” He thought, if Nick had asked, he’d have told him about Jack. But Nick didn’t ask, and Daniel hadn’t really expected him to.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Really. This was closure I never thought I’d get.” There would be no funeral; Nick had already arranged for the Akmayans to cremate his body. But Daniel would no longer wonder.

“There is that.”

“We gave him a gift, Jack. He learned that he wasn’t crazy, despite what everyone said.” Nick had thanked him for that. It was the most heartfelt moment they’d shared, even more profound than Nick’s offhand, ‘You’ve done good, Daniel. Makes me proud.’

“It just…” his partner trailed off, unable to find words.

“I know. But I’m used to it, Jack. If you expect more from someone than they are able to give, you only end up hurting yourself.” Mrs. Bray had taught him that. She was a smart woman. He never stopped _wanting_ more, but he had stopped _expecting_ it.

Jack nodded in understanding and pulled Daniel in beside him. “Yeah.”

He didn’t get a Hallmark movie finish with Nick. (Teal’c had gone through a Hallmark movie phase recently, which was how Daniel knew the reference in the first place.) He was alright with that. His grandfather’s abandonment had been soothed by the passage of time, and moreover by the reality he was happy and content with his life now.

* * *

 

Teal’c found the holiday of Thanksgiving to be very enjoyable. On Chulak holidays were associated only with Apophis and his victories. This made a holiday devoted to being pleased with one’s life quite an agreeable contrast. (Daniel Jackson had once tried to explain a debate about Thanksgiving, revolving around the precise nature of interactions between two groups of people and concerns over exploitation. Teal’c found the ethnic diversity of the Tau’ri somewhat perplexing even after all his years among them, and the argument was for the most part lost on him.) Additionally, he liked the traditional Thanksgiving meal.

Thankfulness was not a concept with which he had much experience prior to his association with the Tau’ri. Jaffa were not thankful. They worshipped and served. Teal’c was thankful that the Free Jaffa now outnumbered those who served false gods. He was also thankful that his son continued to learn well under Bra’tac’s wise tutelage, and for friends with whom to celebrate the holiday.

Once again he gathered with O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, Colonel Carter, and Cassandra at Colonel Carter’s home. She hosted Thanksgiving, while Christmas was to be celebrated at O’Neill’s home, which he now shared with Daniel Jackson, as they had done the year before. Eddie Hallowell was not with them, as he was visiting his sister in a place known as Phoenix, but Teal’c strongly suspected he would be joining them the following year.

As Cassandra was temporarily residing with Colonel Carter for the holiday, her dog was also in attendance. The dog was holding a quiet vigil, watching as O’Neill removed leftover meat from the bones of the turkey. O’Neill apparently felt honor-bound to extract as much meat from the bird as humanly possible. He insisted that Colonel Carter wasted too much turkey.

They had eaten too much to consume pumpkin pie directly after the meal, as dessert was traditionally eaten. This was not new. Despite their intentions, every year they failed to save room for the pie. Teal’c could have eaten pie, but it would be a more enjoyable experience if he waited.

Cassandra was engaged in her usual activity. Every Thanksgiving, between the meal and pumpkin pie, she sat down with a large stack of advertisements and planned her shopping route for the next day. Teal’c had once, five years previously, made the mistake of accompanying her and Dr. Fraiser on their “Black Friday” excursion. At the time it had seemed like a peculiar custom, one he thought would be interesting to participate in. Instead it had proven to be a particularly inventive form of torture.

Daniel Jackson looked at Cassandra’s preparations. “I’ve never understood why one day a year you don’t mind getting up early.”

“If you do it right, you’re back in bed by eight-thirty,” she informed him. “Then you can take a nap before you go out and get the all-day sales.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“You couldn’t pay me to go through that,” said O’Neill from his end of the table. “But I’ve gotta admire the strategic planning.”

“I save a fortune on Christmas presents,” Cassandra said.

Colonel Carter added, “And you update your wardrobe.”

“Clearance racks and sales are the way to go.” Cassandra looked up and grinned. Teal’c was struck by the realization that she had adapted to Tau’ri culture very well.

“I always feel bad for the employees,” said Colonel Carter.

O’Neill paused his pursuit of the turkey meat. “It gives me a whole other thing to be thankful for.”

“Indeed,” agreed Teal’c. “It is not an experience I wish to repeat.”

Cassandra sighed dramatically. “And you were so good at pushing through the crowds.”

Teal’c was very fond of Cassandra, but Black Friday shopping was one of few things he would not do for her.

* * *

 

Jack, having finally decided to broach the subject of a dog, found Daniel in his study. “Hey.”

“Hi,” said Daniel without taking his eyes from his assortment of reference books.

“I’ve been thinking. We work almost normal hours. What do you think about getting a dog?”

Daniel turned from his book to look at Jack. “Seriously?”

“If something comes up…”

“ _When_ something comes up.”

“…we could ask Alana and Kelly to look after him.” He didn’t think they’d mind, even if they were cat people.

“Wouldn’t we have to give them a house key?” asked Daniel. “They’d need it if the base went into lockdown.”

“I ran background checks.”

“You ran background checks on the neighbors.”

He shrugged. “Like you said, we’d have to give them a house key.” It had taken Jack several weeks to decide that might be an acceptable risk. They didn’t have anything in the house that would give away secrets, since Daniel took his laptop to the base with him, but just allowing access to the house was a big deal. He really wanted a dog, hence the background checks.

Daniel eyed him carefully. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

“We don’t have to.” He certainly didn’t want to force a dog on Daniel. That would just make both of them and a dog miserable.

“It wasn’t a no, Jack, just a question.”

In that case, “Yeah, it kinda is. But only if you’re okay with it.”

His boyfriend thought for a minute. “Not a puppy.”

“I wasn’t thinking a puppy.” Puppies required more time than they had available. Also, Jack preferred his dogs to be past the stage where they wanted to gnaw on everything in sight.

“You’d be in charge of anything that requires getting out of bed earlier.”

“Morning walks my job, check.” He’d figured.

“I’ve never had a dog. The Brays had a cat, and the Sikarskis had a macaw. I don’t know exactly what we’d be getting into, but I can tell you’ve thought about it.”

“Dogs are pretty easy to take care of. You walk them a couple of times a day, give them food and water, build a nice warm doghouse, pat them, throw sticks, and they’re happy. Just don’t let them think they’re the boss.” Sure, things came up sometimes, and it was a commitment, a responsibility to another creature, but dogs were rewarding pets.

“I’d want to adopt a dog from the shelter.”

That didn’t surprise Jack in the least. “That’s what I had in mind.”

“No sleeping in bed with us.”

“I don’t want to share you anyway.” Besides, that made some dogs think they were equals, and Jack didn’t want a dog that had an attitude problem.

Daniel nodded. “I need to think about it.”

“Sure. No pressure, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Daniel. He was already going on Google to do research. Naturally. So Jack left him to it.

Three hours later Jack had paid the bills, balanced his checkbook, loaded the dishwasher, and finished reading his latest book, the memoirs of a whitewater rafting guide. Whitewater rafting had nothing on leading an SG team, but some of the stories were pretty funny.

He set the book by the front door so he remembered to bring it back to the library. He liked libraries, because he hardly ever wanted to read the same book more than once, and he didn’t have to pay more than what was already included in his taxes. Daniel, on the other hand, liked to keep books around, usually for reference. Even his pleasure reading books he preferred to own so he could reread them. Then again, Jack was pretty sure the library didn’t have _The Iliad_ in the original Greek.

He headed for the bathroom and was uncapping the toothpaste when Daniel came in. “You know,” said his lover, “If anyone told me when I met you that I’d fall in love with that hard-ass Special Ops Colonel and he’d want us to get a dog, I’d have said they were certifiable.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to say, other than the obvious ‘Backatcha,’ so he shrugged and muttered, “Cliché, but true.”

Daniel stepped forward and slipped his arms around Jack’s waist. “I decided, cariad. Let’s ask the Bucklins if they mind being on dogsitting standby. Mind you, I think it’s a lot to ask, but if they’re fine with it, we’ll get a dog.”

Jack turned around so he was looking at Daniel, whose arms were still loosely around him. “You’re sure?” He hadn’t expected a decision so quickly.

“I’m sure you know what we’re getting into. I did my research, of course. It sounds… nice. Normal.”

“No white picket fence,” he warned.

Daniel just rolled his eyes. “I’ll try to live with the disappointment.”

He kissed his lover gently. “Thank you.”

Daniel gave him one of his brilliant smiles before leaning in for another, longer kiss.

* * *

 

They didn’t have any specific breed of dog in mind. (Although they had a short list of high-maintenance breeds that they wanted to avoid.) Their requirements were simple: they wanted an adult dog, and what Jack considered a ‘real dog,’ which was to say a larger one, not one of those little eight-pound fluffballs that Cassie called ‘purse puppies.’ So when they entered the shelter and saw how very many dogs were in need of adoption, Daniel was a bit overwhelmed.

“How are we going to pick one?”

“We’ll know,” said Jack confidently. “Trust me.”

One of the staff members looked at them askance, as though she was personally offended by two men coming in to pick out a dog together. Fortunately, another came in and asked cheerfully, “How can I help you?”

“We want a dog,” replied Jack matter-of-factly.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll know when we find the right dog,” said Jack again.

“Ah, a true dog lover then.” This pleased the staff member greatly, and he apparently decided that he liked them. “People with that kind of attitude have the lowest rate of returning animals, in my experience.”

Maybe it was from his foster care experiences, but Daniel couldn’t imagine returning a dog unless it turned out to be a dangerous animal. “We’ve considered the responsibility and commitment,” he said. In fact, Jack had insisted on waiting a week just to make sure Daniel hadn’t agreed without having enough time to think about it.

“And you’ve had dogs before?”

“I have,” replied Jack.

“Very good. Don’t hesitate to ask me questions, and feel free to take the dogs for a walk.”

“Thanks,” said Jack with a nod.

The volume increased as they neared the dogs. Daniel felt bad for them, cooped up in cages. On the other hand, he didn’t want to get a dog that barked constantly.

Jack looked at a St. Bernard and said, “Sorry, Beethoven. Too much drool.”

“Beethoven?”

“It was a kids’ movie,” Jack explained, and Daniel could tell from his tone of voice that he had fond, Charlie-related memories of the movie. He gave Jack’s shoulder a little squeeze, just to indicate that he understood.

They spent several minutes wandering around among the dogs. Daniel was waiting to notice one that, apparently, he would know was supposed to come home with them. It didn’t happen right away. He saw dogs. Lots of dogs, and he really did feel sorry for them. But he didn’t see any that struck him as their new pet.

He did trust Jack, though, so he said nothing and continued to look at dogs. His partner was clearly quite thrilled to finally be getting a dog, and seemed to have some kind of system where he tested how the dogs reacted to his voice. It was one of those rare occasions where Daniel was content to let Jack do all the talking.

There was a large black dog that wagged its tail when he passed. For some reason, Daniel was compelled to stop and look at this one more closely than the others. “Hello.” The dog perked up its ears. This one, he decided, was different, although to his annoyance he couldn’t explain how.

“Jack.”

Jack was soon right beside him. “Zelda,” he read from the sign on the cage. “Black lab, spayed female, a year and a half old. Hi, Zelda.”

Zelda stood up and moved to the front of her cage. “She’s…” Daniel began, trying to find the words.

Luckily, he didn’t need to. Jack understood, because it was what he’d been saying would happen all along. “Yeah. Wanna take her for a walk?”

He nodded and went off to find the friendly staff member from before. He didn’t have to go far. “Excuse me…” he trailed off, realizing he didn’t know the man’s name.

“I’m Evan.”

“Evan, we’ve found a dog we’d like to take for a walk.” Then, because he felt like he ought, he added, “I’m Daniel.”

“Zelda?” guessed Evan when he saw where Jack was. “She’s a gem. I knew she wouldn’t be here long.”

Jack was pleased with that. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.” Evan snapped a leash on her collar. “Zelda, sit.” She promptly did. “Young, healthy, and well-trained dogs like her rarely spend much time here. And black labs are, of course, a very popular breed, especially for families. Zelda’s arrival was another Air Force casualty.”

“Is that common?” asked Daniel. Jack was busy testing Zelda’s ability to sit and stay.

“Sadly, yes.” Evan walked with them towards the door, Jack holding the leash. “It’s one of the unfortunate side effects of military life. Sometimes they’re going to another country and they can’t take their pets.” He sounded like he had a great deal to say on the subject, but didn’t elaborate, since they were after all in Colorado Springs. “Enjoy your walk.”

Zelda seemed quite happy to be outside, even though it was a dreary early December day. “She’s well-behaved.” Jack was clearly pleased. “Pat her for a minute.”

They stopped so Daniel could get properly acquainted with Zelda. He appreciated how careful Jack was being to make sure that he was happy with the dog they would bring home. Zelda stuck out her tongue and held up one paw.

“She wants you to rub her stomach.”

“I see I’m going to have to learn a new language,” he remarked.

“It’s an easy one.”

“Μῆνιν ἄειδε, θεὰ, Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος

οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί’ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε’ ἔθηκε,

πολλὰς δ’ ἰφθίμους ψυχὰς Ἄϊδι προῒαψεν

ἡρώων, αὐτοὺς δὲ ἑλώρια τεῦχε κύνεσσιν

οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι· Διὸς δ’ ἐτελείετο βουλή·

ἐξ οὗ δὴ τὰ πρῶτα διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε

Ἀτρεΐδης τε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν καὶ δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς.”

Zelda cocked her ears and leaned into the hand that was rubbing her stomach. Jack raised his eyebrows a little. “Daniel?”  
  
He shrugged. “I want a dog that doesn’t mind foreign languages.”  
  
“All human languages are foreign to dogs,” Jack pointed out gently.  
  
“The Brays’ cat always acted weird when I spoke to it in Arabic.”  
  
His partner accepted the explanation, thankfully. “So what was that?”  
  
“The opening lines of _The Iliad_.”  
  
He stood up, ready to resume their walk. Jack handed him the leash. They both knew, at that point, that they were taking their new dog for the first of many walks.

* * *

  
  
The main hazard of living in the same town as an ex was running into them. Sara was used to that, because she ran into Jack from time to time, mostly at the cemetery. It had taken her two years to move past what her therapist had called “excessive” visits to Charlie’s grave; she’d never stop, but eventually she was able to focus more on his life than his death. Charlie had loved Christmas Eve, with all of its potential and excitement, so she and Jack usually saw each other Christmas Eve.  
  
This was a much happier occasion. She was waiting in her car to pick her stepdaughter up from the animal shelter where she volunteered. Heidi was very committed to animals, because she could’ve taken more hours at work to save up for her car, but she volunteered at the shelter twice a week anyway.  
  
Therefore Sara saw Jack and Daniel smiling and talking as they came out of the shelter with a dog. And she was truly glad. Jack was a good man. He deserved happiness.  
  
They had gone their separate ways without anger, a quick and easy divorce. He never blamed her for leaving. She didn’t want alimony or any claim on his pension, because she had a job and her own 401(K). He didn’t begrudge her buying out his half of the house and even gave it to her for much less than his lawyer suggested once she made it clear she had no interest in the cabin. She’d had a friend with an ugly divorce, whose ex tallied up the value of jewelry. Jack hadn’t done anything like that. And there were no harsh words on either side. Their rival lawyers had more animosity, because Charlie’s death left Sara and Jack too devastated to hate each other. They were too busy hating themselves, both of them blaming themselves for their parenting failures.  
  
Sara had gone through a time where she swore she’d never remarry, and stepchildren would’ve been out of the question. But the passage of time tempered the jagged edges of her wounds, and she’d fallen in love with Alan. He came with two daughters, and that had been hard at first. Honestly, she didn’t know if she could’ve handled sons as well. It worked, somehow, in the end. Heidi and Rita had lost their mother to drink, she had lost her son to a tragic accident, and in time the four of them built a new family.  
  
She wanted no less for Jack, now. And she knew he felt the same. She’d done him the courtesy of mailing a note to tell him that she was marrying Alan, and he’d sent a card. Handwritten inside, he’d added below the Hallmark greeting: _All the best for the two of you._ Jack never wrote anything other than his name unless he really meant it.  
  
She had been right to leave him. She’d left him because he’d already left her, emotionally. Yet even as she left she knew that he would’ve given her more, if he could have. She’d left him because when she looked at him she saw Charlie, and that hurt too much. She thought she could’ve gotten over that issue, if they could’ve dealt with it together, but she never got the chance to try until it was far too late. She’d left him because he was going somewhere dark, even after he lost his death wish, and she was afraid that if she stayed she’d end up following. She didn’t know much about his new work, only that it apparently involved other planets and aliens that could take human form – in fact, she pointedly tried not to think about it, but she suspected that it saved him. Jack needed purpose in his life. Eventually, the job had even given him Daniel, although from Jack’s remark when they last saw each other that had only developed in the last couple of years. And once she got over the shock that her career Air Force ex-husband was in love with a man, she was okay with it. Because she knew that in their day, what she and Jack had shared was real.  
  
Jack and Daniel didn’t see her, sitting in her car reading a magazine. But when she looked up for a moment, she saw them, and she was glad.


	7. Part VII

When Cassandra heard that they’d gotten a dog, she had to come meet Zelda. Jack gave himself credit for turning her into a dog lover.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She likes you,” noted Daniel.

Cassie laughed. “I’m rubbing her belly. What’s not to like?” Turning back to the dog, she continued, “You got pretty lucky, coming home with these guys.”

“She’s abusing the privilege a bit.” Jack said this with a glance at Daniel, who’d been giving out dog treats very generously. They were going to have to discuss rationing, or Zelda was going to gain weight.

“Hey, who can blame you? They’ve got to have some outlet for their soft sides. Might as well be you, right Zelda?”

“How’ve you been?” asked Daniel.

“Good.”

“That wasn’t very convincing.”

She nodded a little but kept her eyes on Zelda. “Mom’s birthday was yesterday.”

‘Mom’ was Fraiser. Jack rarely heard Cassie talk about her biological parents, but he did know that her birth mother was ‘Mama.’

“My friend Jenny says Mom’s probably in Heaven, or some kind of afterlife. But people thought Nirrti was a god, so how do I know there’s anything else?”

Jack was out of his depth. Daniel was absolutely the right person for Cassie to have this conversation with. In fact, he was basically the only person. She couldn’t tell people about the Goa’uld, but this meaning-of-life stuff was barely any more Sam’s league than it was his own.

He knew it was something the Pentagon and the IOC considered. There was a fear that learning about the Goa’uld would threaten some people, and the fallout could be unpleasant. It was a bit patronizing, but the concern was well-founded. Some religions would be more directly affected than others. Christian, Jewish, and Muslim faithful would, however, face the same basic problem as, say, Hindus. If Nirrti was nothing more than a parasitic alien, who could be sure of any religion? Although Jack knew there were some SGC personnel who remained convinced their faith was well-founded and seemed to be maintaining a perfectly cohesive worldview.

Daniel could be counted on not to dance around the subject. “I can’t give you easy answers, Cassie. There are none.”

“I know,” she said. Zelda put her chin on Cassie’s right knee, a comforting gesture. “Believe me, I know. I want there to be an afterlife. I want to think I’ll see my family, everyone from Hanka. I want to think I’ll get to see Mom.”

“Perfectly understandable,” said Daniel. “And there’s no way to prove that an afterlife doesn’t exist.”

“That’s the thing,” Cassie replied. “It’s the not knowing that’s hardest. If I just tell myself it’s a way to make grief easier, I can’t be sure. If I tell myself that there’s no proof against an afterlife, I want to see proof there is one. I can’t win.”

That Jack understood. Although he had the added complication of not being entirely sure, after all he’d done in his life, if he’d make the cut at the pearly gates if they did exist. His solution was to recognize that he couldn’t know and move on. Cassie didn’t think that way.

Daniel, as he liked to do, made a point by asking her a question. “Would you live differently?”

“I…” she trailed off for a minute, absently rubbing behind Zelda’s ear. “I never thought about it. Probably not.”

“If there is an afterlife, I’m sure your mom is incredibly proud of you, Cassie. You’re strong, smart, and loving. She couldn’t ask for better.”

Cassie swiped at her tears. “I miss her.”

“I know.” Daniel slid over next to her and gave the young woman a hug. “So do I.”

Jack felt like he ought to say something, despite being lousy in these kinds of situations. “She was a heck of a woman, your mom.”

“What do you think, Jack?” said Cassie. “About gods and everything.”

“I don’t.” He’d been a lousy Catholic even when he considered himself one. Agnosticism suited him much better. As long as he accepted that he _couldn’t_ know, he could move on. “I make a point not to think about anything if I know I’m not going to come up with an answer.”

“Huh.”

“Some people can actually do that,” Daniel told her. “I’ve never understood it.”

Cassie nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime,” said Daniel.

She leaned over and petted Zelda again. “At least she never had to worry about me having people to look out for me.”

“Never,” affirmed Daniel. “Anything, anytime.”

This was entirely true. He and Daniel not only looked out for her, they indulged her rather shamelessly on occasion. In his own unique way, Teal’c was very fond of Cassie. And Sam, of course, had a special bond with her. 

“Not many people can claim to have a Jaffa wrapped around their little finger,” quipped Jack.

“A Jaffa _and_ a retired general,” amended Daniel.

Cassie smiled. “Don’t tell the Marines. It would spoil Teal’c’s fun.”

That was also true. Teal’c took great satisfaction in running the Marines and SFs ragged with his occasional advanced combat training sessions. The sessions were great learning experiences for the participants, with the nice side benefit of letting Teal’c show his commanding side. After many years of being obeyed, it wasn’t always easy for Teal’c to follow. Even on SG-28 he was a co-commander, which was a fancy bureaucratic way of saying that Dinsmore was technically in charge but Teal’c had more experience. True to form, the Jaffa never said a word about it, other than ‘My place at this time is with the Tau’ri.’ Still, the training sessions were good for him.

“We can’t have that,” said Jack. “You still want dinner?”

“Of course. I may not be starving, but I’m still a college student. You offer to pay for dinner out, I’m there.”

He’d expected nothing less.

* * *

 

Daniel surprised himself with how quickly he grew used to being a dog owner. They’d only had Zelda a week, and as soon as he got home it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to take her for a walk.

On the way back he stopped to check the mail. Zelda looked around, as though Jack was hiding. “He’s going to be late again,” said Daniel, “quarterly reports are coming due.”

It wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that he realized he was talking to the dog like she was a person. It was nice, though, to have undemanding company. She was a good dog, easygoing and eager to please. The previous night they’d worked out a system where Daniel rubbed behind her ears while reading. Zelda loved having the spots just behind her ears rubbed.

He flipped through the mail: his bank statement, Jack’s _Newsweek_ , and two electric bills. That couldn’t be right. A closer examination revealed that one was Alana’s.

He turned back around and headed next door, Zelda happily trotting beside him on her leash. A minute after he knocked, Alana opened the door.

“Daniel. Come in.”

He did, handing her the bill. “I just came to drop this off. It was in our mailbox.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“One electric bill is enough, thanks.”

“It was worth a shot,” she said with a grin. “How’s Zelda?”

“She’s great.”

Alana bent over to pet the dog. She’d taken to Zelda when they were introduced, which was good. Daniel still thought it was exceptionally generous that she agreed to take care of Zelda when emergencies arose.

“I almost went to school to be a vet tech,” she said. “Until I realized I wouldn’t be able to deal with losing patients.”

“That would be a problem.”

“Wouldn’t it?

Kelly came out with a loaded backpack. “Mom, we’ve gotta go or I’ll be late for the study group. Oh, hi Dr. Jackson.”

“Hi,” he said.

She gave Zelda a quick pat and then rummaged through her backpack. “I almost forgot my study guide!” With that she ran back down the hall.

“Chauffeuring duty,” said Alana. “I can only hope that actual studying gets done at this study group.”

He’d never cared for study groups, although they weren’t as bad as group projects. Daniel liked working alone. He always had. Reaching for the doorknob, he told Alana, “Have a nice evening.”

“You too, and thanks for dropping off the mail. Even if it is a bill.”

“Sure.”

He headed home, Zelda beside him sniffing the ground here and there. Jack probably wouldn’t be home until at least nine, so Daniel was planning a productive evening of working on a particularly interest papyrus. And less interestingly, laundry, because they were just about out of clean towels.

While he was unlocking the door, his phone rang. Once he had the door open, he took the phone from his pocket. Caller ID informed him that it was Jack. "Hi Jack."

"Hey. What's this with an AK destroying Nyan's video camera?"

For a second Daniel wondered why Jack didn't just ask Nyan, until it occurred to him that SG-28 was offworld. "AK? Zelda, sit."

Zelda obediently sat while he unhooked her leash, then moved towards the kitchen, waiting for him to follow and provide dinner.

"His report says that it was 'lost to AK fire.' We don't have any AK-47s and I'm pretty sure there aren't any offworld."

"Not AK-47s. That's Nyan's shorthand for al'kesh."

"Ah." He could hear the scratching of Jack's pen. "That makes sense. Tell him to knock off the shorthand in his reports, will you?"

"Sure," he said. "Zelda seems to miss you."

"I'd rather be home," replied Jack instantly and with a hint of sulkiness. "Gotta go. Sooner I get done, the sooner I can leave."

"See you later."

"Right."

Daniel set his phone down and saw the dog sitting by her food bowl expectantly. She didn't do subtle. "Alright, I know it's time." She wagged her tail and followed him to the closet where her food was kept. They'd learned the hard way that the bag of dog food couldn't be left in the open, because at the first opportunity Zelda would knock it over and start eating the contents.

A stray nugget fell out of the scoop while he was taking it back to her bowl. Zelda came to a screeching halt, inhaled the renegade nugget, and raced to her bowl. Daniel couldn't imagine the appeal of her dog food. Although the canned stuff Jack gave her at breakfast smelled even worse than the nuggets.

She started scarfing down her meal, which reminded Daniel that he ought to think about his own dinner. Nothing fancy, just a sandwich that he could eat while looking at pictures of a papyrus.

Looking at Zelda, he was glad that he'd agreed to get a dog. Jack was right. She was good to have around.

* * *

 

It was a carpool day, so Jack met Daniel before they signed out. “Good news,” he informed his lover. Daniel was carrying his laptop case and a large set of books. It was clearly going to be another work-at-home night. Jack grabbed some of the books because the top three were in danger of falling out of Daniel’s arms.

“Thanks.”

He scrawled his signature, waiting for Daniel to do the same. “Good night sir, Dr. Jackson,” said the sergeant on duty.

“Thanks.”

“So what’s the good news?” asked Daniel.

“Lieutenant Colonel Paul Davis is being transferred to SGC.”

“They finally promoted him?”

“Yep. And as a diplomatic liaison, he gets to deal with all the IOC crap.” The International Oversight Committee – or, as Jack preferred to think of it, Intentionally Obstructing Command – was one of the banes of his existence.

“Business,” corrected Daniel. “IOC business.”

“Yeah, whatever. It makes my life easier.” International diplomacy – well, diplomacy of any kind, really – had never been one of his strong suits. Davis wasn’t made for field duty, but someone had to deal with all the politicians, and Jack had grown to respect Davis’s ability to do just that.

“We do need a full-time diplomatic liaison, and Davis should be a good fit.” Daniel said.

Davis would make Daniel’s life a little easier too. As if he didn’t already do the work of three people, Daniel sometimes had to be their diplomat too.

“He’ll be here the second week of January,” said Jack. Then, not far from his truck, he stopped in his tracks. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Daniel followed his gaze to the new sculpture. “A snow Asgard?”

That was what Jack had thought. It was fairly distinctive. Since Asgard were top-heavy, he doubted he could make a decent snow Asgard. He was certain, however, that he didn’t want to try.

Daniel fished out his key ring and singled out his key to the truck. “I’ll be right back.”

Jack followed, and they put Daniel’s small library inside. “Now I can take a picture to show Teal’c when he gets back,” explained Daniel, pulling out his phone.

“You can show Thor next time he’s in the neighborhood.”

Judging by the tracks around the snow Asgard, they weren’t the first people to walk up for a closer look. “Are those prunes?” Jack asked, peering at the eyes.

“Looks like it.”

“Huh.”

Jack had never once used the camera function in his phone. He supposed he might, one day, if he caught a big enough fish and needed proof. But it hadn’t occurred to him to take a picture for Teal’c, who would want to see the snow Asgard for sure. Daniel was thoughtful like that.

It had been a long day, and sadly the snow Asgard was the best thing so far. Jack had high hopes for changing that, all of them involving Daniel and their bed. (Except for the one that involved Daniel and the sofa.) But in any case, the snow Asgard was the most unusual thing he’d seen _outside_ the mountain and on Earth in quite a while.

Just so long as nobody made them at home.

* * *

 

Alien languages night had been a good time. Julia MacDonald had organized and hosted the evening; Daniel’s entire department attended. But now he just wanted to be with Jack.

When he opened the front door, Zelda was standing there, waiting for him with her tail wagging. “Kavil,” he told her before patting her head.

“No bringing alien languages night home,” scolded Jack. He came out of the living room looking supremely relaxed in jeans and a t-shirt, holding his Calvin & Hobbes book in one hand. It was a far cry from the stressed-out director he’d been for the past few days. Walter was on vacation, and nothing ever went quite as smoothly without Walter.

“Tek ral.”

His partner didn’t even bother asking what that meant. Instead he just set the book down and kissed Daniel, long and slowly. Jack’s kisses were a language all their own, and this one said, “I’m feeling romantic.” He let Jack control the kiss and relaxed into it.

Jack regretfully backed off and removed Daniel’s coat. “C’mon, cariad.” With that, he grabbed Daniel’s hand and tugged him into the living room.

Only one lamp was on. Jack pressed play on the stereo, and one of his operas filled the room. Daniel didn’t know which one, nor did he really care, because Jack pulled him in and started dancing.

He adored moments like this. At first Jack had been a little hesitant, but he eventually realized that Daniel truly loved having a romantic gesture sprung on him. This was the tender side of partner, and Jack’s way of showing his love.

They moved together slowly, holding each other closely. Neither of them were particularly skilled dancers, but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about skill; it was about love and closeness.

“Did you have fun?” asked Jack.

“Yes, but I’d have come home sooner if I knew this was waiting for me.”

“Wish I could say the same, but you know how it is.”

He did. “Regular paperwork doesn’t stop piling up while you deal with quarterly reports.”

“Completely unfair.”

“You need one of Thor’s time dilation devices.”

“Yeah, that didn’t work out so well the first time.”

“Too bad. You missed Goa’uld hangman.”

He felt rather than heard Jack’s huff; the reverberations moved from his partner’s chest to his own. “Damn. I’d have kicked butt, too.”

“Sure you would’ve.”

Their swaying, shuffling movements were only dance in a generous interpretation of the word, but it was perfect. Just when he’d given up on this kind of life, with a house, a dog, and someone to come home to, it had happened. Of course the reality wasn’t like an airbrushed ideal. Jack once set a bottle of beer down on top of a ninety-five-year-old rare book which never looked quite the same afterwards, and he got annoyed when Daniel sarcastically added his own witty comments to long, detailed ESPN broadcasts.  But that was just life.

“I can hear you thinking, you know,” said Jack.

“It happens.”

“Yeah.”

“Just… this is good, Jack. Really, really good.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack agreed, stoking Daniel’s lower back. Not trying to arouse him, just moving and touching for the sake of contact. “Couldn’t agree more.”


End file.
